Winter's Hold Cannot Last Forever
by mrscvdl
Summary: Aema is trying to rule her land as best as she can when her old friend Aragorn brings news of Mordor's rising. Trying to make the right decisions for her people she finds herself in the midst of things superior to anything she has ever encountered. She's feels the weight of of duty and loneliness but finds friendship in places she would not have sought it.[Part 1 of 4]
1. Chapter 1

Winter's hold cannot last forever

_When the oldest daughter of King Aldor, third king of the first line of Rohan, fell in love with a peasant the new land ended up being created. Enith had not her father's blessing for her love but when she would not bend to his wishes and when he saw the love shine from within her, he gave in. The land he gave her as dowry lay in the far north of his kingdom yet surrounded by. It was no bigger than one could easily ride from boarder to boarder between sunrise and sunset. For the most part it consisted of small farms and scattered woods. Small farms that now fell under a new ruler. Most people welcomed it and even those who did not would come to see the benefits before her reign came to its end. The newborn kingdom held its independence yet protected by the greater kingdom of Rohan and future kings of the great kingdom would not strive to repossess the small corner of lost land. King Arold's gift lasted until generations had past and the small land seemed of no bother nor interest for the Rohirrim. _

_And so Enith reigned in the land of Romen with her beloved Habas by her side. History does not know his real name for he is remembered as Habas because like a harbor he sheltered his queen and they weathered many a storm together. _

_And this is where our story begins, in the land of Romen, where Enith's descendent, Queen Aema, now reign._

CHAPTER 1

_A welcome visitor with unwelcome news_

Like the land, the only town within its borders were also called Romen. Most people would not see it as more than a village but since it was the closest thing the land offered to one, the citizens had dubbed it so. For it was where the people of Romen had gathered their necessities. The packed dirt road, also known as the main road was edged with dark wooden houses mostly occupied by merchants and craftsmen. The houses were small, seldom more than one story except for the towns only inn called, "The Morning", according to the paint-chipped sign hanging above the door. With its two full stories it stood out among the thatched roofs of the other buildings. Only the smithy's rooftop made a futile attempt to reach as far.

This particular day, as so many others the town was a bustling of activity. A continuous banging of the blacksmiths hammer and the shouts and bargaining of the marketeers filled the air. Carriages were crowding the street, some with goods for the various craftsmen, some with locals trying to make their way in or out of the town. The air was dry, eagerly awaiting the rain, and the sun still stood to the east when three odd, hooded figures made their way through the hustle. Clouds of dust rose from the dirt road and swirled around their feet for each step they took.

As they followed the main road as it snaked it's way up the hill the houses scattered. It seemed the buildings will to climb had been word down over time. Just as much else in this corner of the world were worn and weathered.

As the company of three made it through the manor gate they were greeted with suspicion. People paused tending to their tasks, as caring for the horses or carrying water, to eye the strangers. In a land as small as Romen, outsiders were not a common occurrence.

Everyone's eyes followed them curiously as they walked across the courtyard. The uniformed guards, though attentive to the strangers, seemed to enjoy a little bit of leisure in the early day hours and chatted while eying their surroundings. On the rim of a small fountain in the middle of the courtyard, a soldier had put his helmet aside and was happily playing some card game with a young boy. The manor stood in the north-east corner of the courtyard. The dark wooden building sitting atop a roughly carved gray stone foundation with its bulky roofing made the whole thing rather imposing, quite opposite what its size would suggest. The history shared with Rohan was evident throughout the land and no less so regarding the manor and the buildings surrounding it. Marked by age the most prominent feature of the rustic building was its elaborately carved columned archways that framed the grand entrance with its wide stone stairs leading up to the thick, heavy doors. The balcony overlooking the courtyard mirrored the entrance below and through the archways, down the front hung the green banner with the golden sunrise of Romen on display. The same arches also lined each of the two wings that branched out in each direction with an enclosing effect of the courtyard.

They walked passed the stables and solider quarters and cut across the small square to climb the stairs leading up to the entrance of the manor. They were asked to state their business and kindly leave their weapons in the door ward's custody. The guard was a stern, broad fellow, a little scruffy but undoubtedly a good soldier. The town's guards they had come across were wearing plain helmets and armor of steel, dusty and not particularly neat. This man was a queen's guard, marked by the horse hair plume on his helmet and the impeccably polished set of armor.

'Tell her highness that an old friend, Aragorn, son of Arathorn is here.'

The guard regarded them with slight suspicion but sent word as he was asked. Word came back and the look upon the guards face swiftly changed.

'Her Highness bid you and your fellow travelers welcome, my lord'. And with a bow he stepped aside and they were escorted through the doors.

The hallway they entered was boarded with the same arched columns as outside and held no windows to let in the light of the day. Though lit candelabras and torches hung on the dark wooden walls it seemed dim to eyes familiar to broad daylight. The corridors branching out to either side and into each wing gave only glimpses of the sun on the echoing stone floors through the tall windows edging them. They were asked to wait among the columns in the hallway until they were called. The queen was handling other concerns at the time, the escort said. Through the huge open doorway they could see a great hall opening up. It too lined with columns on either side and at the far end of the room they could make out the throne on a dais. That's why this hall was commonly referred to as the throne room. Standing in the shadows of the hallway they could overhear the queen and her current visitor, although they were not in their line of sight. The visitor were undeniably a poor man, asking for aid. Suddenly the queen raised her voice slightly and called upon one of the servants.

'Will you please send someone to our storage and see to that this man can feed his family for seven days, Alise,' she said. 'And fetch Morgar for me please.'

Morgar was 1st attendant at the queen's stables. As Alise went scurrying off to carry out the orders, the queen once again turned to the poor man, offering him comforting words and making small talk, until Morgar walked in;

'Morgar, have you any use for a pair of extra hands in the stables?' The queen said.

'Of course, your highness. There are always things that needs tending and never enough hands our hours to do so.'

'Splendid,' she responded. 'Please make use of Mr. Nimvy. In return we shall feed his family as long as these times demand it. I expect him to be treated fairly and respectfully, and you, Mr. Nimvy, will return to me in three full moons and we will see to your situation again. Agreed?' She looked at the two men expectantly.

'Yes, Your Highness, of course Your Highness.' they both replied so that it was hard to make out who said what. 'Good, thank you both. You're dismissed!' she said with a genuine smile and the men bowed, hat in hand then turned around and walked out.

A servant approached the three men to announce that the Queen was now willing to see them. As they walked into the great room she was momentarily caught up in conversation with one of her attendants. She was of a surprisingly short stature which her bold nose did not compliment very well. Her big eyes, though they were indeed beautiful enhanced the impression of a bird at flight. In truth if one were not careful, one might mistake her for barely more than a child. She was indeed very young, but she carried the burdens of her few years lived with dignity. She wore a modest crown intertwined in her fair hair which was gathered in an intricately braided bun at her neck and her dress, fitting yet quite simple for a queen, had small silver embroideries along the hem and cuffs.

She dismissed the attendant and turned around and spotted the men.

'Lord Aragorn,' she exclaimed excitedly as her steps quickened towards them, 'my eyes must be deceiving me,'

With a great big smile she stepped up and grabbed Aragorn's hands, leaned in and kissed him once on either cheek; 'It has been too long my friend. How wonderful it is to see you well. The years have treated you kindly I see.' she said, still smiling while her hand rested on his cheek. She was visibly moved by his presence.

'This is surely an unusual sight though. A man, a dwarf and an elf traveling together, would you be so kind Lord Aragorn as to introduce me to your friends?' she said.

'Of course, I beg your pardon Your Highness,' said Aragorn. 'This is Gimli, son of Gloin.' And Gimli stepped forward, took the queen's hand and offered her a deep bow;

'Gimli at your service.' he said.  
She answered his bow with a polite nod of her head.

'You are welcome Gimli, son of Gloin. A mighty man you seem to me, although the trees must seem taller to you than they even do to me.' Standing next to the dwarf it was clear to all that she was barely taller than he.

Her eyes twinkled and she gave him a smile. Gimli had trouble figuring out if he should be offended or flattered and the only thing he managed to get out resembled mere noise rather than words.

'And this is Legolas, son of Thranduil.' Aragorn continued with a gesture towards the elf.

'Too seldom do we see your kind in these lands, master Elf.' Aema said to Legolas. 'I am honored by your presence, you are most welcome.' She held out her hand and Legolas gave a sweeping bow as he kissed it.

'The honor is mine, my lady.' he said. 'And I graciously accept your welcome.'

Once again she called on Alise.

'These gentlemen are my personal guests, will you please see to that they are offered the best of our accommodations.' and with that Alise again went scurrying off to carry out orders. Aema turned to the men; 'You must be exhausted, please make yourself comfortable upstairs while you wait for your rooms to stand ready. I regret not being able to offer you a wash and rest right away but Alise is swift and it won't be long, I will have wine and something for your pipes brought to you. Might I have the pleasure of your company at supper later this evening?' she said and gladly, they accepted her invitation.  
'Excellent,' she said. 'Now if you excuse me I have other matters to attend to.' She smiled at them as they bowed, Gimli a little deeper than the others, Aragorn with merely a nod, and she left, dress flowing behind her, making a whisking sound that soon faded into the hallway.

Another well groomed attendant appeared, introduced himself as Finngal and politely asked the gentlemen to follow him upstairs. They walked into the east wing and soon climbed stone stairs spiraling up to the second floor. There they found themselves just inside the balcony looking out over the courtyard. Across the hallway from the balcony they were shown to an open common room with a hearth gaping hallow since fires where of no use in the heat of the day. Comfortable padded benches where placed around a table in front of the fireplace and there were low bookshelves along the right wall beyond a small serving table where wine had been brought for them. Gimli promptly helped himself to a goblet of sweet red wine and excitedly discovered the pipe weed in an intricate wooden box on the table;

'Come on now you fools, why delay the enjoyment, we have longed for it many a night!' he said to the others with delight. Aragorn and Legolas shared a quiet chuckle as they followed his advice. Aragorn with his pipe stuffed walked out on the balcony. The arches and the roof offered a rather fair protection against the curious eyes below. Only had he stepped up to the railing they would have been able to spot him.

He lit his pipe as Legolas, goblet in hand, walked up to him;

'You seem very dear to her.' Legolas said, quietly awaiting Aragorn's response.

'Indeed, it's mutual,' he said finally. 'I knew her father, King Héald. An honorable man. And I have known her since she was but a wish in the depths of her mothers mind.'

He fell silent; a small smile appeared on his face and he was seemingly lost in memories of days passed. Legolas was looking down into his goblet of wine, slowly moving his hand as if to stir it, waiting for Aragorn to return to the conversation. He looked up and caught Aragorn's eyes;

'Will she heed your advice?' he asked and Aragorn fell quiet for a short while.

'She will do what she deem right for her people, of that I am certain. Wise beyond her years she is, but her head is as strong as it is keen.' he replied.

It seemed the same fond smile was once again finding its way to his lips.

They were interrupted by a familiar whisking sound approaching and soon Queen Aema appeared in one of the arched doorways leading out to the balcony. She said nothing. Legolas quickly made a bow, glanced at Aragorn and walked back inside. Slowly she made her way across the balcony. Her hands clutched in front of her as if she felt subtly anxious;

'Aragorn,' she said, 'my friend. Why have you come?' Aragorn kept silent. 'As lovely as it is to see you again, your troubles are weighing heavily on your shoulders, will you not share them with me?' she continued.

Aragorn looked at her;

'We will talk of it later, it hurts me having to burden you with the news I'm carrying.' He said.

She looked at him, eyes clear of expression for the time being. Unreadable. Her gaze fell on his necklace;

'How is she?' she said quietly.

Aragorn followed her eyes and looking at the evening star hanging around his neck he soon realized to what she was referring;

'She's sailing across the sea, as we speak, with what is left of her kin.'

As he said this he turned away to look out over the courtyard. Aema took a step forward, trying to capture Aragorn's eyes but he wouldn't let her.

'Aragorn,' she almost whispered. 'You have endured an awful lot in your life, but this parting must lay the most grievous of pains upon you. There is no cure, no ease for the absence of your heart's desire.'

She found nothing more to say and she fell silent. Aragorn did not look at her though he knew she would be overcome with sympathy. Suddenly someone discretely cleared their throat behind them. They both looked up to see Alise standing there.

'Your Highness, My Lord. The accommodations have been arranged.' She said.

Their eyes met and Aragorn could still trace the sympathy on her face.

'Thank you,' Aema said turning back to Aragorn. 'Now rest my friend, we will speak of your news over supper. Alise, will you be so kind as to show the guests to their rooms?'

'Of course my lady. 'Alise replied with a courtesy and with that the queen left her guests for now, for her too was longing for a little bit of rest.

* * *

_*** The story is pretty much completed. I will post new chapters as fast as I can.  
I really hope you have enjoyed the story thus far and I am grateful for any comment, review or opinion you may want to share with me. ***_


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2  
_Ill news are best received with wine_

The hustle of the towns folk ceased whit the arrival of evening. Most carriages were now making their way out of the town, back to their farms with the goods they had purchased. The guests in the manor had had a chance to wash the travel dirt off their hands and faces and enjoy some solitude. Word of supper reached them and they all separately made their way down through torch lit corridors and spiraling stairs, to the queens dining hall. It was a fairly large room, located to the west of the throne room. It was framed by tall arched windows on either wall, one facing the courtyard and the other offering a magnificent view of the land below the northern cliffs. Fires were lit in the fireplaces on each opposite wall. The stark dining table was placed in the very middle of the room, lit by an equally stark chandelier hanging above it and offered seating for a company of eight. The designated seat of the queen herself was undoubtedly the high backed chair on the short end of the table.

The three men sat down around the table and waited while servants were bustling to have supper prepared. No one spoke a word at this time, though their silence was soon interrupted by a queen's guard entering the doors to announce the queen. They all stood up and greeted her as she walked in. She nodded in reply and made a sweeping gesture with her hand to bid them to once again sit down as she placed herself in the high backed chair.;

'You are all dismissed,' she proclaimed to the attendants and queen's guards that were in the room. Some of whom looked a little hesitant about leaving their queen alone with such folks as these.

'These gentlemen are my friends and we will require a private supper if you all please.' She added and though their hesitation was still traceable, they all left the room.

'Now,' she said turning to the three. 'We will eat as we enjoy each other's company. Bad news is best received with wine I always say,' She looked at Aragorn and smiled, he raised his eyebrow slightly and then nodded and half smiled in agreement.

'This meal might not be considered fitting for a queen's hall but times are hard. Crops are dying if even they make it above the dirt and I will not feast while my people are starving.' she continued.

Legolas looked at her with regard. This lady he knew only from what his friend had shared with him but an image of her was emerging and he felt a budding respect for the woman. She was a queen who genuinely cared for her people. Who did not just oversee their hardship but shared it, a rare quality among rulers.

As they enjoyed supper together they were not lacking entertainment for Gimli took it upon himself to teach the queen all he could possibly tell of his people during the course of a meal. It was a joyful while, where troubles of the world were banished if only for a time. It was as if they were all old friends who had been parted for many seasons and were once again rejoicing in each other's company. The meal came to an end and more wine was brought for their sitting. Their smiles slowly faded and a silence filled the room, for they knew the time had come to face whatever lay before them. The queen, yet unknowing of what was to be told, soon broke the silence;

'So, my Lord Aragorn,' the queen began. 'Will you now tell me what worrisome trouble brought you here? And I would very much care to know what it has to do with me or the land of Romen.'

After a short moment Aragorn began telling her of the counsel of Elrond, of which she had not been present. He told her of Hobbits and Gondorians, of Uruk-Hai and the grievous loss of Gandalf in the mines of Moria. This was particularly ill received. Soon it became clear that the small land of Romen had not yet been touched by the evil at hand. Word of orc-men raiding villages as they went had reached them but were dismissed as nothing more than ordinary orc-mischief.

The air in the room seemed thick as the looming darkness caused a dire despair. Only the crackling sound of wood burning cut through their disheartening silence. Aema rose and slowly walked up to one of the windows looking over the courtyard.

'How twisted a world when someone could wish for the sun never to rise again.' She said quietly. 'What evil and anguish lies before us? Hardship and trials we have suffered, but everlasting darkness we cannot endure.'

'There's still hope.' Aragorn replied as silently.

'Hope,' she said exasperated. 'Hope embodied by this Halfling, this hobbit you speak of. Many things have plainly stayed concealed to me, though Gandalf's wisdom is not one of them. Else I would consider him a fool for burdening a child's like with the world's fate.'

'The forces of Mordor are unleashed. War is upon us. You cannot face it alone.' Aragorn declared.

'What do you suggest I do?' Aema said, almost sounding discouraged although she held her poise.

'Turn to your king. Send word for aid. Call upon the old alliance. King Théoden could protect you and your people. Edoras would be a much safer place for you right now.' Aragorn said.

She turned to face him where he sat by the table. Her eyes were dark and her face stern with anger. In a lowered voice she answered.

'My King? The queen of Romen answers to no king. And my place, lord Aragorn, is with my people. How could I call myself their queen if I abandon them in times of need?' His name came out as a crack of whip.

Aragorn walked up to her where she stood by the window;

'What have you, a few hundred men to fight for you?' He paused. 'No other could wear the Romen crown the way you do, my lady. You honor your father's memory greatly. You are a good ruler and your people respect you, but you cannot ask them to face the forces of Mordor alone. Though I do not doubt they would do so, for what your people lack in numbers they make up for in courage. Yet courage alone will not bring you victory. You would send them to a certain death my lady. I ask of you to consider it and do not allow your pride to take precedence.' He gave her a long, almost pleading look before offering her a court nod of his head, then he turned on his heels and walked out of the dining hall. Legolas got up and with a simple 'Your Highness" and a bow he followed. Gimli, who had hurriedly emptied his goblet scrambled to his feet, granted her an apologetic look and a deep bow before he went after them. So she was left standing there, feeling somewhat indignant

Moments later Queen Aema also walked through the intricately carved doors of the dining hall and walked up the spiraling stairs which landed just right of the grand balcony. She turned right, following the torch lit walk way of the west wing that shared the same open, arched, glassless windows as the balcony. She reached the door to her bower. The guard that held this position for the night bowed deeply as she passed him, she nodded in response before entering. Her bower was where she felt most at home. Although she was not known

for her extravagance nor her country for its beauty as much as it's harmony, this room was spectacular in Romen measures. The padded, velvet chairs in front of a beautifully carved fireplace named the first chamber a sitting room. Further in lay her bed chamber with its magnificent four poster bed.

Her father had arranged her bower the very day she was born, much to her mother's amusement. She had been told this story often and just as often still recited it for herself. "I tried to tell him, no baby girl's is going to live in that room for many seasons, but he would not take my word for it. A chamber fit for a princess is what he wanted for you and that's exactly what you got" her mother used to say as she chuckled over the memory.

As always when thinking about her loved ones, sorrow clasped her heart. They had said the pain would lesser over the years but she found it untrue. She had grown better at controlling it but the pain was still overwhelming at times. Walking up to her dresser she let her hair down. It fell down over her back in long waves. She walked up to her window facing north. Far beyond laid plains and forest now hidden in the dimness of night. As she watched the star-studded sky above the black treetops she felt desperately, heart-wrenchingly lonely.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3  
_The arrival of the Rohirrim_

The morning sun climbed from the east horizon and the town was slowly coming to life when Aragorn lit his pipe. He was standing on the same balcony as the day before, his eyes fixed on something in the distance when Gimli joined him.

'You made her pretty angry at supper, you did boy.' he said and lit his pipe.

'Her anger does not stem from my words' Aragorn said.

Gimli went on as if he hadn't heard him. 'I'm surprised she didn't throw us out the way you went about it!' Aragorn studied his pipe.

'Fury clouds one's mind; let's hope her mood has eased overnight.' he continued, 'We cannot linger, by morning we should move out.'

Gimli grunted in what Aragorn interpreted as agreement.

'Do you see that?' Aragorn turned Gimli's attention to a vast camp set up right outside the town's walls.

'What is it?' Gimli prodded

'That is Rohirric banners if my eyes are not deceiving me.' he said.

Legolas stepped out on the balcony;

'Your eyes have always been keen my friend, that is indeed a Rohirric banner' he said.

'That's impossible!' said Gimli. 'If word was sent it would still take days riding from Edoras, even with haste.' 'It cannot be an answered call,' Aragorn simply stated. 'It is as if I recognize the banner, or else King Théoden's one step ahead of us. Come; let us speak to the Queen.'

Followed by the others he walked back inside. At the stairway they came across Finngal who immediately addressed them;

'Ah, my lords! I was instructed to find you. Her Highness requests your presence; she is to be found in the throne room, if you would all please follow me.' After only a brief hesitation where they exchanged glances they followed Finngal, who was already making his way back the way he had come.

Queen Aema was awaiting them as they stepped through the big arched doorway leading in to the throne room. Standing in front of her throne with her back straight and a stern look on her face she looked truly regal. She was wearing a more dramatic crown this day. Diamond studded fringes radiating from her golden, partially braided hair like sunbeams over the horizon at dusk. Her dress was of deep red velvet with lavish golden embroidery covering the bodice and surrounding the hem. In truth, she looked magnificent. The three men offered her courteous bows.

'Lord Aragorn,' she said in a formal tone of voice. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'Pardon, Your Highness?' Aragon said, seeming perplexed.

'Last night you spoke to me, offering me certain advice on how to face the road ahead. Later I was woken from my sleep to offer King Théoden's men admission to set up camp outside my town, yet I have not sent for them. Even had I done so, their arrival here in mere hours is outside the realm of possibility. Would you care to explain to me how that came to be?'

'Your Highness,' Aragorn said. 'Nothing has been done on your behalf, this I swear to you. Of the Rohirrim presence, I know nothing'

Her posture became a little less rigid.

'It may very well be so, my friend.' Barely did she finish before Finngal appeared, walking up the aisle leading to the dais on which the throne stood. With a sweeping bow and in a clear voice he proclaimed;

'Éomer, son of Éomund, Third Marshal of Rohan!' he stepped aside and disappeared into the background of the room.

Queen Aema placed herself on the throne, surprise showing on her face. The three men exchanged glances for they too recognized the name, they had heard it not long ago. Mere moments later, the sound of approaching steps echoed through the room. A man in armor appeared with four of the queen's guards following. Strong, on the brink of forceful were his steps as he rapidly made his way down the aisle. His hair was long, some of it gathered in a braid on the back. He looked like a man who had been traveling for some time and on his face they could read concern. He stopped at the steps leading up to the dais, offering the queen a courteous and deep bow.

'Welcome Éomer, son of the Riddermark.' She said with a smile. 'Please rise.'

He did so.

'Your Majesty, I thank you, but I'm afraid I can no longer claim my former titles. I stand before you simply as Éomer, son of Éomund.' he said, his eyes lowered as if he was burdened with shame. 'I honor you, Queen of Romen and I have come to ask your aid.'

'Éomer, son of Éomund. No matter your title, you stand before me as an ally and as my kin. Whatever you may ask of me I will indeed consider, within realm of reason,' she said. The smile had left her face, instead it was mirroring his concern. 'Would a more confidential setting be more suitable for discussing this matter?'

Éomer looked up and regarded the room, seemingly taking in all the eyes and ears around him. He froze when he caught the three men standing to his side. Aragorn acknowledged his recognition with a small nod.

'Perhaps you're right, Your Majesty.' Éomer said.

'Very well then, we will proceed to my study.'

The study laid only a short way into the east wing. It was a neither large nor small room. Her intricate, heavy desk placed a little to one side of it with chairs and a table placed in front of a unlit fireplace. The walls were lined with bookshelves and the room had an atmosphere of being frequently used, almost like walking in on something and truth be told, it might even be considered a little cluttered. Alise was just finishing putting the wine down on a serving table next to the chairs when Finngal showed them into the room.

'Thank you, we now ask for privacy, so that will be all.' Aema said and the two attendants courteously left the room.  
Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were left behind. Legolas turned to Aragorn;

'What do you make of this?'

'I do not know but it seems we can safely assume the King is not behind it, but let's not entertains ourselves with mere guesses. The Queen will certainly send for us if she requires our presence. Let us go.' And with that they left the throne room to otherwise get about their day.

Aema bid Éomer to sit down as she did the same and then spoke;

'Now tell me; How's your King?'

'My king,' Éomer answered. '..has forgone sense for madness. Poisoned is his mind and his body twice the age of his years lived. Saruman has accomplices in Meduseld, corrupting the King's mind with untruths and deceit. When my attempts to reach out to my King had all failed and I was at a loss, overcome with a sense of defeat, I let my temper get the better of me and I lashed out on Wormtounge. Consequently he banished me from my home and my land and stripped me of my titles, all while my King, the man I love as a father, watched in silence.' He paused as he gathered himself. 'The men who followed me are still loyal to our King, but we are men of no country and therefore I have come, to find sanctuary in the land of Romen.' His eyes held hers, awaiting her reply.

She broke his gaze, got up from her chair and walked over to her desk carefully undoing her crown to place it on top of it. She continued to the serving table and after pouring two goblets of wine she walked over and offered one to Éomer. She sat down again.

'The situation which you describe is most bothersome. You were wise to come here, though I do not know if I can offer you what you seek. Times are hard and my people are struggling. More hungry mouths to feed are something I need to consider with care.' She said.

'I do not ask of you to stifle our hunger, I only ask of you permission to dwell here, safe from the prize of our heads.' He said. 'In return you shall receive our loyal services. Think of the strengthening of your military forces, Your Highness.'

She considered what he had said for a moment before finally responding to his request;  
'You and your men have found sanctuary; you shall be welcome to stay in the land of Romen.'

'For that, I am ever indebted to you. On behalf of my men and myself I humbly thank you and ask that you will accept our service to you, Your Majesty.'

She nodded gracefully and fell silent.

'Éomer, son of Éomund. You no longer claim your titles and in your company I will not claim mine. Throughout our father's lives they shared a deep and cherished friendship, let us honor that.' She said at length.

He seemed surprised by her words but soon became more at ease.

'Of course…my lady.' She smiled at his use of a slightly lesser title and decided that it would have to do.

'The day might still be young but this calls for a sip of sweet wine. To ever friendship' she said as she raised her goblet.

'To ever friendship' Éomer replied before they both drank.

Slowly stirring the goblet in one hand she watched him for a moment.

'How is your sister?' she said.

Surprised by the mentioning of his sister he answered;

'Éowyn is suffering. She has grown distant and cold and Wormtounge is watching her ever so closely. It pains me to see my sister so.'

'Has she not found the adventure she was so desperately seeking as a girl then?' Aema said.

'She is bound to her King. Caring for him in a way she should not be expected to. If adventure is what she seeks, she will not find it within the walls of the Golden Hall where she is biding her time.' Éomer answered, saddened by the thoughts of his sister.

'I see,' was all Aema could say. 'I remember her being a lovely girl. The summer I spent with her after my mother's untimely passing is one of my fondest memories. She was adventurous then and I cannot imagine her any less so now.'

'I did not know you remembered that time.' Éomer said with a smile.

'Vividly,' she said 'I also remember a youngling who would rather pull my braids than bow to me' She gave him a smile.

'Well, young I was and hungry for life and maybe if you would have been as innocent as you looked, your braids would have been no target of mine. Undoing my saddle girth causing a proud boy and horseman at that to fall on his face in the courtyard, you were lucky you got away with only braid pulling my lady. My indignation stretched further than that.'

Her eyes glittered by the memory of mischief and they delved into memories of days passed.

None of them knew how much time had passed when a discreet knock on the door interrupted them. After being granted entrance, Finngal appeared.

'You Highness, I apologize for disturbing but it is now noon and your presence will soon be required for the upcoming inspections of the troops.' he said.

'Of course, thank you!' She replied stifling a chuckle.

She stood up as to get ready to leave. 'Well Éomer, I would have liked to stay and reminisce some more but the time of a queen is in short supply and I don't think more wine would be appropriate for I have other obligations I have to attend. I regret not being able to house your men but I insist on you staying here as my guest and maybe you and your closest men would give me the pleasure of your company at supper?'

Éomer, who had also prepared for departing answered;

'It would be our pleasure; I thank you for your immense generosity, Your Majesty.'

'Also' she said. 'I would very much like to personally bid your men welcome. May I ask you to accompany me?'  
'Of course, Your Majesty. It would be my honor to do so.'  
'Marvelous, meet me in the courtyard in an hours' time. '

With a deep bow he turned and walked out.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4  
_Aema's welcome_

Éomer patted Firefoot's neck. The grey steed was a magnificent animal and truly a companion of his. The horse was growing a little impatient and therefore danced around where they stood waiting in a group of queen's guards, all of whom were riding in the procession to the camp. He spotted the queen making her way over the courtyard. Next to her, a stable attendant was leading what was clearly her horse. The animal was surprisingly muscular and sturdy, with a dark coat and it's long, dark mane hanging freely around a white blazed face. He would later learn that she had simply named him Ar. The queen had changed into a grey, silver embroidered dress with divided skirts, suitable for riding. He was not surprised by this since it was unusual to see a woman ride the lady saddle in this part of the world. The Rohirric women were no lesser than the men in handling their horses and Romen women would not differ. She wore a more modest crown, a sleek circlet resting along her hairline with a white, stone inserted pendant, dangling on her forehead. Her hair was gathered in a thick braid resting down her back. The queen and the stable attendant stopped right in front of the men and he turned her horse around. Suddenly there was a commotion among the queen's guards and they all scrambled atop their horses, they couldn't let the queen wait once she got on hers. She smiled at him before swinging herself up in the saddle and he soon followed her example. With haste the guards arranged themselves, four of them riding in pairs in front of the queen and four behind. She took the reins and discreetly gestured at him to ride up alongside of her.

They rode through the gate and left the manor behind making their way down the main road at a walking pace. Éomer was surprised to see that their procession didn't attract more formal attention. People curtsied as they stepped aside and a few waved happily as the queen smiled and nodded in reply but people did not stop and wait before the procession had passed before getting on with their day. They soon rode in among the shops and as they passed the bakery, a rather corpulent man, wearing an apron dusty with flour, held the door open for a farmer's wife leaving his shop with a loaf of bread in the basket hanging on her arm. The man looked up and spotted the queen.

'A beautiful day for riding Your Majesty. Would she care for some newly baked honey cakes? My boy Elfren gathered the honey himself he did. Brave boy that one I tell you. Proved to be quicker than a bee. But they were mad as raiding goblins, came home looking like a rose bush in bloom he did.' The man chuckled.

'Thank you Breigar. But the way you keep feeding me your delicious honey cakes, Ar here will soon refuse to carry me. Give mine to Elfren if you please. He seems to have earned it, and that way he doesn't have to steal them from your plate.' She smiled and Breigar laughed a roaring, belly bouncing laugh. Walking back inside he was saying something between loud chuckles but they were already past him and nobody could make out what it was. Éomer looked at her with amused curiosity.

'I would think that wife of his has her hands full.' She said only to his ears and then grinned. Éomer shook his head and laughed quietly.

The Rohirrim camp was set up just east of the town's gate. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of tents cluttering the field outside the town. Word had been sent beforehand and many if not most of the men were gathered. Their small procession made its way through the camp until they reached a small hill on the further side. There they halted and Éomer swung himself off his steed. He walked up to Aema offering her an assisting hand in getting out of her saddle then he shouted in a loud and commanding voice;

'Riders of Rohan, Listen! The crowd grew silent. 'Her Majesty Queen Aema of Romen has graciously granted us sanctuary in her kingdom. We abide her laws, we honor her wishes and we are in her service. We are loyal to our King but for as long as we shall dwell in the land of Romen we honor their queen as our own!' He unsheathed his sword and raised it. 'To the queen!' He called and the aroused the crowd that joined him in the cheers.

As the crowd settled and eventually broke up the Queen turned to Éomer;

'I shall thank you for your words, it was more than I expected.' She looked out over the shattering crowd of people. 'These are good men, honorable. I wish no harm upon them.'

'They shall encompass no harm, my lady.'

She could only look at him and her heart felt heavy as she thought of days to parted, if only momentarily. The queen being escorted back to the manor as Éomer stayed behind to gather his men and his belongings for supper.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

_The words of Edoras_

'This is utter madness!' Helke of Rohan barked and pounded his fist in the dining hall table. 'This will be our doom! What chance do men stand against such forces of evil?'

'Enough!' Éomer commanded sharply and the room fell into an awkward silence. Again the room was shadowed by the looming darkness as they sat around the table, pondering their apparent fates.

'King Théoden must come to his senses.' Aragorn said and broke the silence.  
'With all due respect, Lord Aragorn.' Éomer said with a scowl. 'I watched the King's son lay dying from wounds caused by this evil we speak of. The King did not come. Tell me, if the death of his heir cannot rouse his senses, what makes you believe this will?'

Aragorn did not reply.

'Lord Aragorn,' Aema broke in. 'Do you still believe Edoras to be the safest place for me at this time? I was never keen on the idea but knowing what we know now, I must insist on remaining in my own Kingdom.'

'Edoras?' Éomer said and after a short hesitation Aragorn answered him;

'I suggested the Queen would be safer under the protection of King Théoden. Romen needs allies in these dark times and the old agreement would see to that.'

'If protection is what you seek for her, I would propose keeping her distant from Wormtoung's cunning games. My eyes have seen him twist the mind of mighty a man; I do not wish the same fate upon her.'

Queen Aema's face grew darker as she simply watched them over the edge of her goblet. Gimli caught the look on her face and nervously repositioned himself on his seat followed by a discreet clearing of his throat.

Busily fidgeting items placed in front of him on the table he didn't noticed the looks he received from the others around the table. He's behavior had successfully wielded Aragorn's attention towards the queen.

'Your Highness,' Aragorn began. 'Your position is most precarious. How, if not by seeking aid do you expect to govern this?' Her back stiffened by his words, however she was not given the time to reply before Éomer spoke up;

'If I may?' He looked to the queen for approval and received it in form of a nod. 'There are now Eorlingas willing to give their life for the queen. We were granted sanctuary and in return we will fight for her if required. This agreement has severely increased her armed forces. What better protection do you expect her to find elsewhere?' Aragorn met his gaze and then turned to the queen who continued;

'You see, Lord Aragorn,' she said. 'Matters of my kingdom are better left to whom it may concern. Lord Éomer has sworn his loyalty although I will not claim it if I do not deem it necessary. We will deal with matters as best we can as I'm sure so will all of Middle Earth. Now would things change in the land of Rohan, I may yet consider your proposal, but until then, my decision is final.'

Legolas, who's voice had barely been heard since his arrival suddenly spoke;

'The arrival of Lord Éomer and his men has cast new light on the situation of which the Kingdom of Rohan find itself. With this in mind, Your Highness, may I say your decision is wise. We do not know the paths of darkness as of yet.' He looked to Aragorn as if concerned his words would be received with disgruntlement but Aragorn just watched him without expression. Then Aragorn rose and walked around the table to where the queen was seated. Standing in front of her he said;

'Your Highness, I meant no disrespect. I have wanted nothing other than to keep you from harm. I have trouble displaying a proper respect for who you are, for in my heart the child you were still lingers. Your decision is indeed wise considering the circumstances and I find reassurance knowing you have allies sharing my desire to see you safe.' She stood up and laid her hand on his shoulder.

'My friend, harsh words has been uttered between us since you arrived here mere days ago. Yet it is not the first time it has been so, neither will it be the last. If fortune be with us we will be granted many more opportunities to put our strength of mind on trial.' She smiled and he laughed softly.

'If fortune be with us..' he repeated, still smiling. 'We shall now get some rest. Come morning we move out, our business here is done.' He continued.

'Will you not stay and gather your strength for only a little while longer?' The queen offered.

'I thank you, but we cannot delay. We have pressing matters to deal with still.' Gimli and Legolas rose from their seats while Aragorn took her hand, bowed and kissed it;

'I hope our paths soon meet again Your Highness, my dear Aema.'

'Thank you Aragorn.' She said sincerely as he looked at her then turned around and followed by Gimli and Legolas, he left the dining hall.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

_The calm before the storm_

The hour was early when Éomer came across Aragorn outside the stables. He had gone there to see how Firefoot was adjusting to the new environment. The men courtly greeted each other;

'Tell me, did you ever find your friends?' Éomer said.

'No, we did not.' Aragorn replied. 'We lost their tracks in the Fangorn Forest. The orcs are all dead, but what has become of our friends we do not know. When we came here we had traveled far, eaten little and slept even less and hope was failing. We have now regained our strengths and set out to find them once more. Hope has not deserted us just yet.'

'Wherever your path might take you, I wish you luck.' Éomer said.

'Sooner or later our path will lead to Edoras!' Aragorn said, awaiting Éomer's inevitable reaction.

'Whatever your reason to go there, may I ask something of you?' Éomer said after a brief pause. His reply took Aragorn by surprise but he quickly answered;

'Yes, yes of course.'

'My sister, Éowyn. Will you see to her? Will you please see to that she is sound?'

'Of course, you have my word.' Aragorn said a little taken aback by Éomer's sincerity and obvious care for his sister.

'I thank you.' Éomer said and noticed that Aragorn was looking over his shoulder, across the courtyard. He looked around and saw what it was Aragorn was looking at. Queen Aema moved along the walk way of the western wing.

'You care for you sister deeply, horse-master. I can relate to that. That girl is very dear to me.'

'No harm will come to her, if I can help it.' Éomer said.

'For that I am grateful.' Aragorn said. 'I also wish you good luck with your endeavor, knowing her, you're going to need it.' They patted each other's shoulders and bid each other farewell.

The departure of Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas was followed by a few calm days in the kingdom of Romen. Aema busied herself with her usual commitments. She gave audiences where common citizens brought news or requests. Much of them the same, times were hard and they were seeking her aid. She did her best to see to her people. Whether she could offer help in supplying a few days worth of provision or having her men help the farmers in their labors, she did the best she could in meeting their needs. The guards and attendants sometimes grumbled about it among themselves, thinking their position at the court were holding them superior to simple farmer tasks. Their land was too small, the people too few to enable such distinctions and so they all knew their objections would fall on deaf ears. Although they might have grumbled, they still preformed their duties, knowing deep down that these were the cornerstones their kingdom rested upon; One citizen helping another when needed. When the days turned into evenings, she dined with Éomer and they spoke of things past and things to come. After her friends departure she appreciated having someone to talk to about those matters. She had yet to fully convey the forthcoming darkness to her people. The only precaution she had executed was raising the readiness of her troops. From Éomer, who had battled numerous of those Uruk-Hai, she learned valuable battle tactics when faced with these orc-men. They were stronger, faster and more ruthless then what she now thought of as ordinary orcs and she was grateful for any piece of information she could gather.

When the sun tipped over its peak for the sixth time since Éomer's arrival and the dry air still hadn't tasted the rain, the two of them where getting ready to take a ride since Aema insisted Ar could do with a leg stretcher and she wanted to show Éomer more of her land than he had seen as he had only gone between the manor and the Rohirric camp. After attendants had brought them their horses they were ready to ride off with an escort of only two queen's guards. Ar was indeed happy to get a move on, casting his head and snorting with impatience. They rode out through the courtyard gate and before reaching the houses and shops they turned on a road going west off the main road. She had taken this road many a times, it lead to the creek flowing a bit further into the thin forest of birches and other green leaves. Although they were followed by her escort, the guards kept their distance. Watching Aema taking a deep breath that turned into a smile Éomer said;

'My lady, it is good to see you so at ease.'

'Who knows what fate will befall us. All we do know is today the sun is reaching us, birds are greeting us with their song and beauty surrounds us. You cannot capture joy, but let it rest in your heart for now. The time will come when we will find encouragement in its memory.' Her anticipating gaze rested on him, making him unable to resist her joy affecting him.

The sun was slowly moving towards the west as they reached the creek and paused. The horses were contently chewing on the green grass by the purling water as they sat under a willow tree.

'Had I not been born into a life of obligation, this is how I would spend all of my time.' Aema said. 'I do appreciate what I have been given, I recognize my good fortune. Just sometimes I find the thoughts of a simple life alluring.'

'The simple life you speak of is deceiving, my lady.' Éomer answered as he watched the water flow. 'Burden knows not King from peasant. We all endure our share of hardship.'

Her head resting in her hands, she looked at him;

'Your words are wise, Éomer, son of Éomund.'

Suddenly they heard approaching hoof beats and further away her guards scrambled to their feet as they gathered their horses. Éomer was on his feet in a blink of an eye holding out a hand to lift her up on hers.

The rider, a queen's guard, came into sight. He was driving his horse as if hunted. Éomer and Aema reached their escort at the same time as the rider did. The guard did not bother to get off his horse before stating his business in a shortness of breath;

'Your Majesty! I'm glad I found you, word reached the manor that an army of orc men is attacking! Old Éovòkk's farm is burning and I was sent out to find you! Malíec is gathering the men as we speak but we must make haste, your highness!' Éomer was already atop Firefoot, handing the reins of Ar to Aema. His voice was commanding as he spoke to the rider and their escort;

'Bring Her Highness back to the manor. See her safe!'

With that he dug his heels in Firefoot's flanks and set off at great speed through the trees. Aema had only time to climb atop Ar before her and her company did as he.

Éomer drove Firefoot across the fields behind the town of Romen. His camp came into sight and he could see a bustle of activity among the people, a lot of them already on their horses. It was evident that the word had already reached them, for that he was grateful. As he road across the road and made it into the camp he slowed down. The men were ready, awaiting his orders. He raised his sword and called;

'_MEN OF ROHAN! OUR SWORDS THIRSTS FOR ORC-BLOOD! RIDE NOW, SHOW NO MERCY! WE LEAVE NONE ALIVE! RIDE NOW, FOR OUR KING, FOR THE QUEEN._'

He sheeted his sword, turned the riled up steed around and hundreds of men on horseback followed him as they galloped south down the road towards where the black smoke of the burning farm was rising to the evening sky.

Aema and the three guards were galloping through the thin forest. Now and then catching glimpses of the town through the branches. They were not far from the edge of the trees. Aema's mind was focused though her blood was pumping with fury. Holding on the pommel of her saddle she unsheathed the short sword that was always hanging down the left side and clenched it in her hand. She let Ar run for she knew he was taking her home. The small path was edged with shrubs and saplings when they didn't grow right down the middle of it and they were now making it for what she knew was the last turn. Around it laid a last stretch of trees and then they would soon be out on the field and reaching the road. The horses grew tense, she could feel it in Ar's every muscle. She tried to relax, thinking she was bringing her anxiety down on him. As soon as they made the turn they saw them. Almost a dozen orc-men awaiting them, swords in hand, roaring and trampling with impatience. The horses stopped dead in their tracks, flailing, rearing and screaming in horror. Aema tried to take control over Ar but the terror was too great, for he was not a battle horse and never had he come across such stinking evil before. He reared again and she felt herself losing her balance and she fell to the ground. One of the guards was on the ground as well while the two left atop their horses manage to take control of their animals. The orcs were charging and the guards were shouting orders to one another. Her head was still hazy from the impact of the ground but she got up, there were no time to dwell on it. Everything happened so fast. The clamor of steel against steel was deafening, the snorting and roaring of those disgusting beasts in front of her, and then the stench, it made her stomach turn. The two men on horseback were charging in defense. She spotted two of the orcs already dead on the ground. Her fury grew stronger as she watched a creature of the dark locking in on her. She heard the guard on foot shout something behind her as she raised her sword and ran to meet her fear.

The first stroke fell on her and though this orc-man was the strongest of opponents she had faced, she had the advantage of being small and very nimble and she avoided it by ducking under his striking arm and rounding him. With a scream from the top of her lunges she darted back, sword now in both hands and drove it in between his shoulder blades. He fell forward with a gurgling sound and as his face hit the ground she turned around just in time to side step another swing. She stumbled from the sudden uncalculated move and rolled on the ground. The orc-man was slashing his sword but she rolled over again to avoid the sharp blade. Back on her feet she stood eye to eye with her enemy for a second. Trying to read his next move she just waited until he did exactly what she had anticipated. He drove his sword forward as she stepped aside turning her back against her opponent and driving her sword into his stomach as his momentum helped her charge. His sword fell to the ground as he stumbled, unable to move, caught by her blade and assumedly in a soul wrenching agony. She turned around, twisting her sword once more to surely thrash the inside of his body beyond healing. She then kicked him to the ground and retrieved the sword, now black from stinking orc-blood. As her opponent gurgled and cursed there on the ground she gave herself a second to look up. No immediate threat to her at the time. In fact her two riding guards where just now fighting off the last orc still standing. She walked up to the suffering orc on the ground in front of her. She looked right into his black, watery eyes;

'Die you filthy little worm and may you ever be cradled by darkness!' She hissed before thrusting her blade into his wicked heart. She tore of a piece of her already ripped skirts and wiped the evil blood off her sword. Looking up she finally had the chance to take in what had been going on around her. One of the guards who had been riding was now walking around, kicking the carcasses, making sure they were dead. Suddenly thrusting his sword into an orc twitching on the ground. Her eyes were searching the third guard, the one who had been on foot with her when the second guard came running across the dead orcs.

'Your Highness!' He called with obvious relief in his voice. He made it up to her.

'We need to get you out of here, are you alright, your highness?'

'I'll live Gorden.' She answered, suddenly overcome by exhaustion.

'Your Highness, they were so many…' he paused, looking at the two orcs on the ground next to her. His eyes taking in the look of her, she was sure she had looked better.

'Your Highness…I..' he trailed off, not sure what to say to her.

'Now where is Felríc? He was afoot, I can't find him and I won't go anywhere until we see to him! That's an order!' She spotted him only momets later, lying on the ground ever so still. She lifted her skirts and ran to him, followed by Gorden.

'He's still breathing.' She said after examining him. 'Though this filthy wound of his needs tending, we cannot remain here.' She tore off yet another piece of her skirts and tied in around the gushing hole in his leg.'

Gorden shouted for the guard still inspecting orcs to bring his horse over. They needed to make it back to the manor with haste.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

_Fighting for Romen_

Éomer's heart was beating in unison with Firefoot's thundering hoof beats. His senses were sharp as a hunting birds and the world seemed to move ever so slowly around him. The men behind him rose in battle cries as they charged against the hundreds of orcs in front of them. They came across the enemy on a field running along the road leading to the burning farm. Éomer knew the queen's guards were coming but he did not await their arrival because surely, neither would the Uruk-Hais. Firefoot nearly flew over the grassy field against the Uruk-Hai who had placed themselves in defensive formation. He leaped over the first line of shielded Orcs and crashed into the midst of the gathering. Man and horse had battled countless of times together and they were as one. Éomer was slashing his sword, dismembering orcs one by one. One charged at him with his straight black blade but Firefoot stepped aside so Éomer swiftly could sever the poor creatures head from its body. Firefoot carried him through the crowd as the former Marshal of the Riddermark slashed and charged at anything in his way. They eventually came out the other side and Éomer gave them both mere moments to catch their breath before he turned the steed around and leaped right in again. The Uruk-hai were furious, going after the horses because they knew they would rob the riders of a very obvious advantage in doing so. When Éomer noticed their aims he jumped off his horse and sent him on his way for he was too fond of the animal to risk him for such a pitiful group of combatants. A weakness perhaps but he was not to be underestimated as an opponent on his feet.

The queen's guards were just now charging across the field. The turmoil that followed seemed to go on forever.

Horses galloped around Éomer as he drove his sword into yet another stinking orc. The carcasses littering the ground made the most gut wrenching noise as hoofs and feet trampled them into the dirt until it seemed the ground was covered in red, wet, mud.

Deafening blows of steal was heard between the agonized shrieking of orcs. Cries of bottomless terror from his fellow men as they were struck around him. Slashing and screaming in fury he fought and killed. Sweat was running down his face which was covered in blood. His own or his enemies he did not know.

While the last rays of sunlight was holding on to the burning sky, the number of orcs finally seemed to dwindle. Éomer lowered his sword as all the men around him were of his own kind. Clashes of steel could still be heard as well as the guttural noises of death as the last orcs where pierced by swords. He wiped his face and the taste of foul, raunchy orc blood finally revealed itself. He spat repeatedly trying to rid himself of the toxic taste as well as the memory of it, but he did so in vain. He exchanged words with his fellow men as he readied himself for departure. The fatigue of battle was creeping up on him and he felt battered and bruised to his bones. Twice he had to whistle before Firefoot answered his call. The horse was bleeding down one leg and Éomer examined the gash carefully. It was shallow and had not hurt any vital parts. Firefoot himself didn't seem bothered by it so he decided to ride back since he wasn't certain his legs would carry him the whole way.

As he gathered the reins and handed them over to a stable attendant with strict orders to see to the bleeding, Éomer spotted Ar across the stable door being tended to by another attendant. The youngling handling him just slid the saddle off his back as Éomer approached. After asking a few questions the situation was made clear to him. Ar had returned back in company with one of the guard horses without riders. This had of course caused major disturbance at the manor and Royal Marshal Malíec, Commander of the queen's guards had ordered multiple small squads to scan the surroundings until finding the Queen and the missing guards. They had soon come across them on the road leading west above the shops. He was told of the ambush and how the queen had bravely fought and killed orcs side by side with her guards. He did not linger to hear the rest of the story although the boy seemed more than willing to share.

In long strides he cut across the courtyard and climbed the stairs to enter the manor. Once inside he didn't pay much attention to the bustle around him although it was unusual for this time of night. He went straight into the throne room where he hoped he would find the queen. She was there, hunched over the table along the right wall, pale of exhaustion. She was still wearing the gown she had been when he left her. It was torn, muddy and stained with blood. Her hair that had been neatly braided this morning was tangled and clinging to her sweaty forehead. She slowly raised her head and spotted him across the floor.

'Lord Éomer!' She exclaimed and quickly rose to greet him. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and then went on to wipe her hands on a piece of her dress.

'Lord Éomer,' she repeated as they met half way. 'If only you knew what relief the sight of you brings me. Are you injured?'

'No My Lady..' he started but she interrupted him;

'The orcs, Uruk-Hai?'

'We spared none, my lady.'

She let out a long sigh as if she had been holding it for a long time;

'So the darkness has reached us. Dismay is weighing heavily on my heart. How can I face this, how can I lead my people to victory when my very soul is trembling?'

He had no answer for her. The lack of her normal poise left him uncertain of what was expected of him. She seemed to have read his mind.

'I'm so sorry. Don't mind me, I have been beside myself with worry and anger for hours. Tell me, did we suffer great losses?'

'We suffered some. How many I do not know, I will receive reports in the morning. I left as soon as I could, I had obligations elsewhere..' he fell silent for a moment. 'I am profoundly sorry for leaving you my lady.' He finally said sincerely. .

'What are you talking about? You could not know we would be ambushed. Besides, you gave me your loyalty. I swore not to claim it unless necessary. I would not have claimed it today. Nonetheless I am ever grateful for what you did. We may have suffered losses, but I am certain more were spared through your actions'

He only looked at her for a moment, his eyes full of concern.

'I should not have left your side.'

'You have no duty to me,' she said softly. 'You already did more than was expected of you. Besides, have you ever heard of a ruler who's sword is unstained by blood?'

'They were to see you safe..' Éomer said.

'They.' She said in a firm voice. '..were three men, facing a dozen orcs. If you take me for an incapable maiden in need of a man's sword to keep me safe, you know little about me. Do you think my father raised his only child that way? Then you do not only offend me but my father's memory.'

'I meant no disrespect my lady, I hear you are indeed quite capable with a blade and I am sorry.'

She sniffed at him. They stood in awkward silence for a short time before she eyed him up and down.

'You are dirty, and you smell.' She simply stated.

He was taken aback and struggled to find a reply with no success when he saw a spark in her eye.

'Well Your Highness, you have never looked prettier.'

He saw her twisting his words in her mind probably trying to understand if it had been a compliment or an insult. She ended up with a rather indignant look on her face. Deliberate or not, he could not tell until the corner of her moth started twitching, revealing her bottled up laughter. He smiled and slowly shook his head.

'I think we could both use some rest my lady. You can rest safe, we have men on guard all through the night. I will go now but may I see you tomorrow? We will have more to speak of once I receive the reports from the field.'

'Of course. Sleep well lady Aema.' He kissed her hand, offered a bow and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

_Territories will not matter if the world comes to an end. _

Éomer rose early the next morning. He had washed the battle off the night before, still the stink of rotten orc flesh seemed to linger. The first sliver of morning light was just manifesting itself on the eastern rim of the sky as he stepped out on the courtyard. He needed to see that his animal was tended to as instructed, he cared a great deal about his friend and companion. The hustle in the courtyard took him by surprise. He had expected to find it empty, save the guards. Instead he met a crowd of people and even more pouring in through the gate as he watched. With slight difficulty, he navigated through the gatherings of people. There lay a heavy mantle of apprehension over the whole place, some women were weeping openly, children seemed daunted by the situation although most people were just quiet. Joined in an eerie, somber silence.

Once inside the stable he found the same stable boy he had met yesterday. The lad told him the queen was about to address the people concerning the events of yesterday and that the whole town where expected to gather.

Éomer took his time with Firefoot since he had not done so before leaving the battle field. The horse was in good spirits and health. The bleed on his leg originated from a slightly deep scratch. Even so, Éomer made sure to find him some oats, mostly to ease his own conscious.

While some time had passed the hour was still early when Éomer stepped out into the courtyard again. Making it back to the manor house at this time would have been hard, even had he wished it for the crowd was now stretching from one wall to the other and more people were still waiting in vain to make it through the gate.

He leaned his back to the wall of the stable and anticipated the queen to appear on the balcony. He did not have to wait long before guards sounded the trumpets, announcing her coming. The crowd was ever so silent, had he closed his eyes he was not sure he would have sensed their presence. She appeared in the tallest arched opening. Dark, as to mirror the mood of the people, was her gown. Her golden intricately braided hair framed the lavish, fringed crown placed on her head. Her poise and queenly manner was radiant.

At length she spoke;

'_People of Romen,_' she paused. '_The event of yesterday has left us heavy at heart. The men who fought and died, our brothers, will always be honored and will walk with dignity to their fathers long passed. Many perils have we encountered, many burdens have we carried, yet before us lay many grievances still. Our kingdom was not raised by those faint at heart. The strength of our hearts has not withered, neither will we allow doubt to reside within. _

_While the darkness draws nearer, we grow stronger, for we will not let it feed off our fear. _

_Shall the last days of men be ours, we must not surrender. We shall fight. Fight for all we hold dear, _

_for all we know, for all that is good in this world. Man beside man, we shall fight! _

_People of Romen, let not courage desert you. We are one, our swords are one, and we will prevail!'_

Éomer remained by the stables. Thoughtful he watched the crowd disperse. People's spirits were lifted. Now anger thickened the air, but anger stand stronger a defense than dismay.

When the courtyard was emptied besides small, scattered gatherings of people, Éomer made his way back into the manor. As he stepped inside he was immediately approached by Finngal who informed him that his presence was required in the throne room by Her Majesty the Queen. He walked across the hall, through the big arched doorway and down the aisle leading up to the dais. It seemed like long ago he had first walked in here, though it had been only days. The queen was awaiting him, sitting on her throne. The throne was not a thing of sheer beauty, square and bulky, dark and as so many other things in these lands, marked by age. First he had seen her on it, he had thought her little upon such a large and looming thing. Yet today her presence overshadowed all else. As he reached the dais he greeted her with a court bow.

'Let me begin by saying I received your report with great regret. Your losses may not have been great in numbers yet no lesser is the grief for each fallen. Though you have not asked it of me yet, I give you leave to honor the fallen in whatever manner is proper according to your tradition.'

'Thank you, Your Highness.' Éomer said courtly.

Approaching steps of an armor clad man were heard and soon Royal Marshal Bór Malíec walked through the doorway and down the aisle. He greeted the queen with a deep and flourish bow and a short; 'Your Majesty.'

'Commander Malíec, what can I do for you?'

'Pardon me, my queen, but may I speak frankly?'

'Do you ever do it any other way?' The queen answered teasingly. Malíec eyed Éomer scornfully and Éomer suddenly felt as if his role in this was more than that of a mere bystander.

'You have reviewed my reports I assume?' He turned to the queen as he spoke.

'Indeed Commander, I was relieved to find we suffered no losses. You did very well.' She answered.

Éomer felt as if Malíec was deliberately avoiding looking his way.

'Yes, about that Your Highness, there are a few things we need to make clear.'

'What things might that be?' She said expressionless. He seemed to be going over whatever he was about to say one last time in his head before speaking;

'You appointed me your Royal Marshal and Commander of your guards, did you not?'

'Is that really a question?' she asked. He did not reply but went on.

'I want to state that I had the situation under control yesterday. My men were scattered and the ambush of your highness might have delayed our arrival at the battle, yet had we, it would have caused no harm.' He paused as if to not lose his temper.

'Commander, this information was to be found in your report, what is it you need to speak of?'

'As I was saying, the situation was under control when this man, this horse master took command over the battle.' At the mention of him, Éomer became alert.

'Excuse me for interfering, but I believe I did not as much take command of the battle as I simply fought it.'

Malíec's eyes blazed at him and he bursted;

'The battle was not yours to fight, horse master! Any action taken in this kingdom, will be taken after I say it shall be so. No matter what former title you might have held, in this land you answer to me!'

Aema's voice was not heard by the men as she tried to interrupt them.

'I answer only to my king and to your queen for I have sworn her my loyalty.'

'Your loyalty constitutes abiding under our order!'

'You fool!' Éomer cried. 'Did you not hear the words your queen just spoke? Man beside man. None of us would have claimed victory if not for the aid of the other. My concern for you and your men are none but for us to ride to victory together for my duty lies elsewhere. I gave lord Aragorn my word that I would keep the queen safe and I will honor that pledge with my life if demanded.'

Aema rose from the throne;

'Silence!' She commanded. The two men held each other's gaze at length before sullenly turning their attention to her. 'I will not have you two squabble over petty pride! Do you not see what is before us? Neither pride nor grudge belongs in this battle. How can I ask my people to fight side by side if the two greatest warriors in my kingdom cannot?'

The two men answered her with silence and she continued;

'Commander Malíec, the men of the Mark gave their lives so others could be spared. Among those your own men, should you not stand humbled before their Marshal?' She paused and turned her attention towards Éomer; 'And as for you, Lord Éomer. I assumed I had escaped Aragorn's paternalism with his departure. Little did I know he had found an accomplice in you.' Her narrowed eyes focused on him left him uneasy.

'You two will overcome you differences and we will not waste another breath on it.'

Visibly perturbed she stalked out of the room and left the men standing there uncomfortably eyeing each other until Malíec turned on his heels and followed her example.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

_Winter's hold cannot last forever_

The day went on as the queen tried to oversee the people pouring in to the town from farms near and far. The news of orcs had swept across her kingdom like wildfire and left people in fear. Particularly those who lived on the outskirts of the land, close to the borders.

At request she received reports from the food stores with growing concern. Not only was there the question of housing all these people but they were running short on supplies and with lessened number of people seeing to the farming they were certainly not going to receive nearly enough to feed them all. She was still upset from the events of that morning and was grateful that commander Malíec had whereabouts elsewhere while she had tried her best to avoid running into Éomer in the halls of the manor. Trying to stay busy with important tasks at hand she managed to push her annoyance away.

That night she asked to eat her supper in her bower. This was not an unusual request coming from her but the look on Alise's face told her that her maid understood more of the situation than she would have liked. As always though, Alise did not utter a word and simply did as she was asked.

Spooning up the broth she sat in front of the fire in her sitting room, pondering what she was to make of everything that had happened over the last weeks. The crackling of the wood burning had a calming effect on her. She had changed into a more comfortable garb of soft dark green wool and her hair was loosely hanging over her back without ornamentations. She pushed the half emptied bowl away and pulled her feet up under her and leaned back in her chair. Watching the flames dance for her, the loneliness once again surrounded her. She thought of her father and how she would have wished him here during those grim days ahead. She thought her own wisdom insufficient in comparison. The weight of her responsibility laid heavy on her shoulders as she tried to examine every possible outcome in her mind. Her people were no warriors, skilled farmers and craftsmen they were, but put a sword in their hand and they would be at loss. Centuries of peace and isolation does not build armies worthy of such a cause. Her heart sank with the setting sun.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a discreet knock on her door. After she had granted permission, which was customary for her bower in particular, Alise stepped in.

'Your Highness, Lord Éomer is requesting to see you. He is outside.' She said.

Aema looked over the room as if to make sure it was in order. 'What would you like me to tell him?' Alise continued. 'Shall I tell him you will see him elsewhere?' This she added since she knew the queens feelings about her bower. This was no place for gatherings or audiences, this was her private sphere to where only a few were welcome. To her surprise the queen answered;

'Show him in Alise.' Her maid quickly gathered the tray with her supper, curtsied and out the door she went. Mere moments later a short, firm knock was heard followed by Éomer entering her room.

As he stepped inside Éomer was greeted with the intimate setting of the bower. The lighting was dim, mostly beaming off of the fire except a chandelier lit on a table. At first he did not see her, still in her chair with her back to him. To his discomfort he could see the foot of her four-poster bed through the open door on the far wall and his presence in the room felt improper. He spotted her and cleared his throat, awaiting a proper response from the queen who was still turned away from him. He received none.

'My lady?' Éomer slowly walked around to face her and when he did, he saw she was intently watching the dancing flames of the hearth.

'My lady, may I?' He gestured for the chair next to hers. Her eyes did not as much as flicker. Hesitantly, he sat down and fell silent for a time. The queen, who had spoken to her people with such composure and who had left two hard soldiers dumbfounded just earlier the same day, now seemed far away where she sat with her arms around her knees and her feet tucked in under her skirts.

'What urgency brings you here tonight?' Aema spoke at length. Her voice sounded disturbingly indifferent.

Her voice startled Éomer and he looked up just in time to catch her slow shifting of focus. Her gaze now rested on him and the fire was reflected in the tears that still clung to her lashes in an attempt to conceal themselves. She studied him as intently as she had studied the fire mere moments ago and said nothing. This made him slightly ill at ease.

'I wished to see that you were..' The look on her face made him trail off and leave the words unsaid.

'Safe?' She said and Éomer couldn't hold her eyes but looked down. 'Yes, my Lord,' she continued in a dangerously slow voice. 'I understand it is indeed your duty to do so.' She turned her focus back on the fire. Again they fell into an awkward silence that lasted for a time.

'Why do you refuse those who hold you dear to shelter you from harm?' Éomer said. 'It is neither duty nor burden.' The silence filled the room once more.

Aema repositioned herself on her chair, putting her feet back on the floor and placing her arms on the chair's armrests as she finally spoke;

'Many a times did I find solace on Lord Aragorn's knee as a child. He would stroke my cheek and dry it from tears no matter the cause. Often he made me forget my every trouble.' Éomer listened intently.

'However,' she continued. 'the yearn for Lord Aragorn's protection is long gone. I buried that little girl when I buried my father. All that I once held dear now rests in earth's embrace. My heart holds only the memory of them and a never-ending winter.' She rose and slowly walked over to the window facing north.

As she was standing there looking out over the landscape obscured by night, Éomer could see how she discreetly swept her hand over her cheek as to wipe the tears that had finally lost their grip and fallen.

'My people are in despair,' she said. 'The echo of my heart is of small matter.' She paused and Éomer just watched her from his chair in silence.

'Though never has dawn seemed further away than this night.' She said quietly.

Éomer rose and walked up behind her.

'My lady. To desire companionship is no sign of weakness, only souls blackened by evil do not carry such longings.' She bowed her head as if his words had pained her. 'Grieve your dead but know you are not forsaken.'

She turned around to face him at his words. Her eyes betrayed her for he could clearly see the traces of her sadness. Carefully he reached out and stroked her hair.

'Winters hold cannot last forever.' He said and took her hand to his lips as he bowed and then walked out of her bower, leaving her standing there, looking at the door closing behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

_The council_

The dust swirled as the western winds swept over the town under a looming, cloud covered sky. In the sheltering warmth of the manor The Queen held council for her high ranked officers. They were gathered around the table of the council chamber, located just east of the throne room as the whisking sound of tree branches on the windows nearly echoed through the cavernous room. The council had been called after riders had encountered yet another band of orcs lurking along the borders the night before. It had been only a few and all that remained of them now were a pile of smoking ashes, yet the news of more orcs was not received lightly.

'The orcs bore the white hand of Saruman, I fear this is only the beginning.' Helke of Rohan said.

'Our men combined do not count even a thousand. We need more men!' Éomer said.

'There are no more men,' Aema said. 'Only boys, and I will not have our children fight orcs.'

The men around the table fell quiet and the queen caught their anticipating glances toward Éomer as if he was the bringer of news all but her was familiar with. She let her gaze rest upon him, sharing the men's anticipation.

Éomer's eyes anxiously wavered between his men before he heaved a sigh and addressed her;

'Then you are out of options, Your Highness. If Saruman intends to raid this land, we stand defenseless.'

'Defenseless you say,' she said. 'Yet I sense this is not the point where we simply give up, or am I mistaken?'

'You have one more option.' He said.

'So our only option then.' she said.

'Helm's Deep,' He said. 'It could shelter you and your people.'

She considered it for a while before she had to point out the issues she found with this option.

'Helm's Deep is not within my realm. I would need the consent of your King who you claim is not in any state to offer it. Besides, do you suggest we abandon our land, our home and leave it unguarded for orcs to raid as they please? To travel to the hold will take us days upon days, the risk of running the civilians right into the grasp of orc-bands are too great.' She said.

'The old alliance calls for his protection of your women and children at least. He cannot refuse. And you cannot stay here, Your Highness. Saruman will strike and better all men are gathered to protect your people when the hour comes. I am not unfamiliar with the risk in my proposal but I think You Highness, it is a risk we must take.' Éomer said.

Aema turned to the men around the table;

'I fear I will need your support in this decision, for it is not one I make without difficulty,' she turned to her Commander; 'Malíec?'

Malíec sighed and eyed the men around him.

'Your Highness, I feel inclined to agree with the horse-master. I am unwilling to send my men to their death fighting a lost battle, Helm's Deep offers us the chance we so desperately need.' He said.

'Do we have consensus in this matter?' The queen asked the gathered who all nodded in agreement. 'Well then, as much as it grieves me I must admit my wishes are at loss here. We shall move out towards Rohan as quickly as it may be arranged. Please see to the proper preparations respectively and remember, haste is of great importance.' With that she dismissed the council and one by one the men departed.

Aema pondered the inevitable path she had chosen. Lost in thought, fixed in her position, she did not notice Éomer lingering until the room was otherwise empty. Not until the feeling of being watched finally penetrated her mind.

'Let not doubt overcome you, my lady.' He said standing next to her.

'It is not doubt that haunts me,' she said quietly. 'I shall leave my home, perhaps never to return and I ask of my people the same. Even was I to ever return, will it still stand to greet me?'

Éomer said nothing.

'I.. I am utterly sorry. I did not mean to be so insensitive.' She said after reading his face. 'Your home is already lost to you..' Unable to find the right words she fell silent.

'You need not apologize, my lady. It is indeed so and therefore I know the weight of such a loss on one's heart. Trust in hope. One day you will return.'

She attempted a smile and Éomer offered his hand to assist her in her rising.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

_The departure for Helm's Deep_

The wind had dwindled to a mere breeze as the early morning beams of light brushed the landscape of Romen to awaken it from its nightly slumber for the second time after the council had gathered. The main road was crowded with riders as well as people carrying their most beloved belongings in big bundles on their backs as well as pushing or pulling them in small carriages. The line of people stretched all the way from the courtyard of the manor to the very opposite side of the small town shops and slowly they were making their way south. Aema turned back as she was riding Ar in the mist of the people. Looking back at the manor that had been her home all through her life, it stared back at her with a ghostly feel of emptiness as Ar took her further away with each step. Alise was silently weeping atop her sturdy mare riding next to her mistress.

'Hush Alise, do not shed tears for something not yet lost to us.' Aema said softly.

'I am sorry mistress,' Alise said, her voice faint and trembling. 'I do so wish we could stay, the world outside always scared me. More so now than ever.'

Aema looked at her attendant. A woman only a few years older than herself. She was perhaps a little on the plump side. Her dark blonde hair always tightened in a neat bun at the nap of her neck made her look more than the few years older. She had been with the queen since the latter's late childhood years, her father thinking it good for her to have someone close to her own age around. Aema was grateful for that, for Alise might be her maid but over the years she had proven her unyielding loyalty countless of times and was more of a confidant than a servant. She would like to call her friend though she felt that friendship was hard to accomplish with such wide gap in rank to overcome.

'The world itself does not deserve your fear, Alise. But I must agree with you, the evil roaming out there does make my own heart quiver. Remember we are protected. The men riding with us will not let any harm come to us if they can help it.' She smiled reassuringly and surprisingly found herself comforted by that very notion.

'If they can help it…' Alise whimpered.

As they made their way through the town, one by one the houses emptied as people joined the procession. Quiet they kept on and quietly they were joined by more people along the way. Sorrow burdened them more than their possessions and their feet dragged as if refusing to move without struggle. No one glanced at the queen were she rode and she forced her head up, denying herself the right to crumble under the pressure of guilt. She had made this decision, she had failed to see her people safe in their own land. No one could fault her for not foreseeing the magnitude of their peril but nevertheless she carried the blame.

The Rohirric banners stirred in the breeze as they rode up to the riders edging the road. The trampled field ground was all that remained of the now disassembled camp. Éomer, on top Firefoot approached as the procession made a stop. He courtly bowed his head to the queen who returned his greeting. Then he faced his men and with his commanding voice he bellowed;  
'_WE RIDE FOR HELM'S DEEP!' _He motioned Firefoot forward and once again the mass of people started moving as the Riders of Rohan accompanied them.

They traveled as the sun climbed to its peak only to slowly descend westward. Before it touched the treetops they made camp. They had not yet reached the borders of Romen but in all likelihood they would cross it by the next midday. Aema's tent, which she was to share with Alise, was set up next to those of the highest ranking officers of both armies. It was quite moderate in size, only sufficient to room their two cots on either side and a rather outworn, portable washstand. A remnant from her father's army camps, she reckoned. It also roomed the smallest of sitting areas, if two chairs next to a scrawny table was to qualify as a proper sitting area.

The two women where busy trying to make the tent as comfortable as could be when the tent flap suddenly opened and Éomer emerged. Startled by his entrance, Alise hissed;

'Is it a habit of yours to simply walk into a ladies accommodations this way?' she then remember who she was addressing and quickly added; 'Sir!'

Éomer froze in his movements, unable to find a proper response promptly enough.

'Alise!' Aema chided. 'You may be excused,' Alise blinked at her dumbfounded.

'Alise!' The queen said again.

'Yes Your Highness!' and she curtsied. She gave Éomer a dark, accusing glance before taking her leave, letting the tent flap fall as heavily as she could manage.

'I beg your pardon, my lady. It is indeed no habit of mine to abandon courtly manners in such ways. I seem to have forgotten not all tents are occupied by men.' He said

'Would you rather have it so?' she said and was met with a puzzled look in his eyes.

'Would you rather have a camp full of unshaven, scruffy soldiers?' she prodded.

'Well my lady, yes… no… I…' his struggle lured a clear giggle out of her until she saw the look of mortification on his face.

'Oh Éomer, I mean no disrespect. Alise is a little, shall we call it strict, from time to time. I do find a certain enjoyment in teasing her.' She said and Éomer let out a sigh of relief.

'Now tell me, what can I do for you my lord?'

'Are you comfortable or is there anything else you require?' he said.

'No thank you, this will suffice.' She said with a smile.

'Well then, make sure to get a good rest, come tomorrow, you will need it.' He bid her farewell and left.

Outside Alise was waiting and he hesitated as he passed her but stopped and turned to face her.

'Miss Alise, I ask your pardon for my rudeness, it was not my intention to act in such a boorish manner.'

She stifled a sniff;

'It may not be a habit of yours, but these unchaperoned visits to my lady's chamber certainly is becoming one. I am hardly the only one who sees the impropriety in that.'

Éomer looked at her with ill hidden amusement which made Alise even more flustered. With a curtsy no deeper than protocol demanded, she bid him good night.

Aema woke feeling like she had been beaten during the night. Her muscles were stiff from the previous days riding and the thing resembling a bed did little to soothe her aches. Alise was still sound asleep on her cot and Aema pulled her cloak over her thin shift and silently lifted the tent flap to step out. The early hour had yet to reveal any light of dawn. The air was crisp and cool on her cheeks. She waited a moment outside her tent, letting her eyes get used to the darkness before she silently started making her way through the camp. A walk to distract her from her tender muscles and clear her head would do her good, she figured. As she reached a small hill she sat down and took in the view that was now somewhat clear to her despite the night. On her way there the men on guard, whom she had passed, had acknowledged her with curt nods and eyed her carefully. Though she could not see it clearly, she was certain they still were. Ignoring the fact that she might be under surveillance she returned to the view in front of her. Beyond the camp lay the south plains of her kingdom and to the east of them she could make out the black line of the Fangorn forest. At night it seemed less looming and frightening as it faded into its surroundings. All the tents beneath her represented her kingdom, her people that her father had ruled with such passion. She could only wish to one day make him justice. Her heart felt smothered when she considered what her father would have thought about the peril she found herself in. All though she did not see any other path she could have chosen, she didn't dare trust that her father wouldn't have found a way. Her eyes caught the outlines of the Rohirric banner and her thoughts trailed off to their marshal. A profoundly confusing man he was, yet she couldn't help but savor the budding friendship. As aggravating as he could be at times she was beginning to trust that his concern for her was genuine. Many years had passed since she had felt such camaraderie and she was painfully aware of how much her heart desired it. As the sky right above the horizon slowly turned into lighter shades, Aema leaned her head on her up drawn knees and wept. She wept for her loved ones, her echoing heart and the fate of her people and that of man kind.

Éomer was at request awoken before dawn. Offered a poor excuse for a meal he settled on a log outside his tent to eat in solitude. That's when he could make out a lonely figure clad in white on the hill top. Calling over one of the patrolling guards he gave a nod towards it.

'Her Highness the queen, my lord,' The guard answered. 'She left her tent some time ago and has been there since.' Éomer just gave a nod as the guard returned to his duties. He looked at the woman again, pondering if he was to see to her but dismissing his notion as quickly. His wish to watch over her was usually met with vexation, something that left him utterly frustrated yet it offered him a feeling of familiarity for it was not the only time in his life a woman had reacted so. His sister did not much approve of it either. The thought of his sister brought sadness down on him. His thoughts trailed south towards his home far beyond the hidden horizon. No word had reached him concerning Rohan, and what had become of Théoden King and his sister, he did not know. He heaved a sigh as to sustain the anger that revealed itself through his increasing heart beat and his urge for action. For a man of action he was. He not only sought it, he commanded it. Biding his time here had made his very soul grow restless. Though many dangers still lay ahead he could not stifle the relief of being on his way back to his home. Once again his eyes sought the queen. She might not necessarily agree to his protection willingly but she had it none the less. She looked so small where she sat and the vulnerability she had shown him while tears lined her cheeks had not left him unmoved. He grunted to himself, to him the most raging of battles seemed orderly compared to women's minds. He then saw the queen stir and soon she came walking down the hill towards him. He deliberately stayed where he was, hoping she would cross his path. When she did he stood up;

'My lady, is all well?' he said after approaching her.

She shied away from his gaze.

'It is.'

'You did not sleep well?'

'I did, I only wanted some air and sometimes one simply desires solitude.'

'I see,' Éomer answered, pretending not to notice the once again visible streaks of tears in her face.

'Well my lady, once the sun rises we will prepare to move out. Will you be comfortable with another day of riding?'

'Perhaps comfortable is a little too much to wish for right now. Let's say I will be able to endure it.' She said with a faint smile before she returned to her own tent.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

_All will have blood on their hands_

So moments and hours came to pass as they left the land of Romen behind. Ar carried his queen steadfast as the far-reaching caravan of people slowly meandered southward over the sweeping plains of Rohan. The mounted soldiers rode in the front lines followed by the queen and her escort. Up head, coming over small hill to the southeast she laid eyes on two riders coming towards them at great speed. Indeed it did not seem like they were bringers of good news. As they reached Éomer and the other officers in the front the procession came to an abrupt halt. She noticed an immediate commotion in the front lines and suddenly the orders reached them.  
'_ORCS! TURN AROUND! RUN! RUN!' _The officers were shouting, riding up and down the line of people to spread the word. With a slight delay she could se the mass of people starting to break out in chaos, trying to make it back the way they had come. Guards of Romen on horseback, edging the people as if they were herding cattle. Aema turned Ar around and cried to Alise;

'_We must run, do not delay Alise!' _As she bore her heals into Ar's flanks she looked over her shoulder and saw the black mass of orcs making it over the crest of the hill and the moving blackness seem to be without end. The men were forming a defense as she turned back and urged Ar forward. She could barely make out the clamor and clashes of steal over her pounding heart. She skillfully steered Ar around any obstacle they encountered on the ground. Regretfully most of them were her own people struggling to flee for their lives. She took in the scenery with increasing fear. As most men with arms at hand had turned around to strengthen the defense most people she saw were women and children. The shouts behind her seemed to be getting closer and she once again looked over her shoulder. What she saw made her blood freeze. Orcs had broken through the front lines and were now rushing after the people in flight. Soldiers pursuing and showing them no mercy when they reached them. Suddenly she spotted a women, no older than herself with a babe in her arms overcome with terror calling out as if she was seeking to find someone. Aema hesitated for only a moment before she once again turned Ar, now to face the threat and rode back towards the woman. The orcs had advanced and was not far from surrounding the woman when she arrived. The queen dismounted as quickly as she could, unsheathing her sword before doing so;

'_Take my horse!' _she shouted to be heard over the deafening noise of battle. The woman stared at her, unable to fathom what was happening. '_Take my horse, save your child!' _

'_But what of you, your highness?' _the woman cried.

'_GO!'_

'_Your Highness, my boy, my Waldmar, I cannot find him!' _the women cried with terror.

'_I will find your boy, now GO!' _When the woman and scrambled atop Ar and Aema had settled the babe in front of her she set Ar off at a gallop with a smack of her hand.

She found herself in the outskirts of the battle. Focused on finding the little boy, she searched the surrounding areas with her gaze. Further away she saw a large Uruk-Hai with a burden on his back and quickly did she make out a little boy dangling from his shoulders. Sword in hand she ran in their direction, coming closer she gave an outcry to gain the beasts attention. She succeeded and with a snarl he turned right at her. Violently he hurled the boy to the ground but Aema had no time to see to him. Breath caught in her throat she prepared to meet her enemy. He raised his sword and howled right before the first stroke fell. She evaded it by quickly throwing herself on the ground with a roll and just as quickly she was back on her feet. He slashed at her and for a time she could do nothing but stay clear of his black blade. She rose to her feet once more and planted them firmly in the ground, she would meet him or else she had no way of conquering this creature. As he lifted his sword and plunged it toward her, she let out a cry and thrashed her own blade to hinder the blow. She summoned all her strength, yet failed to stand fast, for his power was far too great for her. Her arm twisted as the blow brought it down to the ground. In an instant the stinking creature was on her, crushing her throat with one hand alone. He was growling at her in a guttural tongue she did not understand as she was clawing at his gauntlet-clad hand, fighting for air. The pressure on her throat would not ease and she could feel her consciousness slowly slipping away. Frantic, she thrashed in his grip as her feet were no longer touching the ground.

Suddenly there was a loud thump and the Uruk-Hai froze for only a moment before loosing his grip and staggered before falling to the ground with a long spear piercing the side of his already deformed body. Aema fell to the ground and repeatedly gasped for air. She rubbed at her throat to sooth the burning. Ignoring the blazing pains in her body she wasted no time before determinately stumbling over to the little boy lying still on the ground. Every time her feet failed her she got back up and kept moving. His little body was utterly contorted and she knelt beside him and gently caressed him. When she regarded him she saw the gashing wound in his abdomen. The boy had been too easy a prey for the Uruk, it was as if the orc had just driven his filthy claws in and ripped the little boy apart.

Éomer reined in his steed to choose his next target and as soon as he laid eyes on it he was off with speed. He came up from behind and swung his sword and in that one swing sent the head of the beast rolling. With great ability he rode Firefoot through the battleground, easily evading obstacles such as fighting men on the ground. Strategically attacking Uruk-Hais within his reach or those of them that seemed to overthrow his fellow riders. It would take more than a simple ambush even of this magnitude to disturb his calm confidence. Again he his eyes scanned his surroundings to find a target to pursuit and then he saw her. Aema was sending Ar off with another rider. He did not have time to dwell on it before he was attacked from the side. Firefoot cried as he sidestepped the enemy. Éomer used his shield to smash the orc's teeth in and as it stumbled, he drove his sword home leaving the orc behind before it could draw its last breath. From a distance he watched Aema charge against a rather broad shouldered Uruk-Hai. Pressing forward he tried to evade attacking orcs as he went. He needed to get to her and she was not too far away now. Suddenly he saw the scene play out. She lost her hold and the Uruk-Hai now held the advantage. With growing horror he saw him lift her off the ground, her small body thrashing in vain attempts to get loose. He took hold of his spear and thrust it as hard as he could against the creature. Only had he let go when he was yet again under attack. The swords met with loud clashes before Éomer was given the opening he needed to pierce his foe. The path to Aema lay open. He watched her as she made her way to something that he could not make out. She was clutching her arm and more than once did she stumble to the ground. He spurred Firefoot forward and he did not slow until he was but a few steps from her and there he dismounted. She was holding a little boy. Lifting her delicate hand from a gut wrenching wound, simply staring at it as the blood ran down her arm. He walked up and put a hand on her shoulder.

'I… I was too late…' she whispered. He squeezed her shoulder.

Quivering she inhaled and relieved herself of her every pain, her every fear and let out a heart breaking cry of agony. She screamed from the very bottom of her heart. Again and again she wailed. Éomer could do nothing but kneel beside her and embrace her. She collapsed in his arms, her body shaking. He knew the horrors of battle far too well, he had seen men twice her size break from it.

'I was to late,' she stammered. 'I could not save him.'  
Éomer stroked her hair, hushing her and leaned his cheek against her head.

'I cannot see them safe,' She touched the blood on her hand. 'This is his blood, their blood.. It is their blood on my hands' She buried her face in the crease of his arm and sobbed uncontrollably.

So they stayed until the very last sound of battle had gone silent and afternoon had turned into evening. As the first stars studded the deep blue sky Éomer was approached by one of his men holding the reins of Firefoot. Aema's tears had eventually ceased and she was now sleeping in his arms. In a silent voice the Rohìr told him that the people were once more gathering and they were making camp only a short distance away. Éomer gave him leave and told him he wouldn't be far behind. Ever so slowly did he untangle his arm and got up. He repositioned and carefully lifted Aema. She weighed nothing in his arms and her numbness had him concerned. With slight difficulty he manage to mount Firefoot and he trotted back to the camp area.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

_The aftermath_

Aema woke up after sleeping for what seemed like forever. Her memory of the passed day seemed blurry and she opened her eyes to help clear her mind. She was in a tent, lying in a cot. But this was not her tent. She looked around to discover she was indeed alone in there. The tent was slightly larger than hers and it was rugged. She realized she had been cleaned though she carried no memory of that either. She was wearing nothing but her shift which made her enormously anxious as to whom had cared for her. She sat up and suddenly the remnants of the battle became obvious to her. Her arm was still aching furiously and her head was heavy as a rock. She eased herself out of bed and snatched a cloak that was draped over a chair by the bottom of the cot. She pushed open the flap and stepped outside. The departing dusk left the surroundings cloaked in the darkness of night.

Éomer sat in front of a small fire just outside. The flames casting shadows that swept across his face. She remembered his comfort as she had gone through the very darkest of hours. However, she did not remember him being here and she blushed at the thought of him putting her to bed.

'My lady, you have woken,' He said. 'Are you well?'

'Yes Éomer, as well as to be expected I assume.' She paused. 'I must ask, how did I get here, for I can not remember?'

'We rode, you slept. Though it was no ordinary sleep that came over you. The sun has set once more since you fell asleep.'

'Oh my, I didn't realize…'

'Alise helped me… Helped you. There were blood and mud…' he made a sweeping gesture over her stature to show what he meant. A sigh of relief escaped her. She walked up to where he was sitting on a log and he gestured her to take a seat. He caught hold of the cloaks neckline and moved it aside to get a look at her injuries.

'Your bruises have darkened. Are you in pain?' he said and she carefully nodded while watching him. He let the hold of her cloak go and instead purposelessly poked the fire.

'Éomer, I need to express my gratitude. You saved my life.' She said

He met her words with disregard.

'Éomer, thank you. Had you not come.. had you not been there…' she trailed off at the memory of him cradling her. 'The horror of it all was too much for me to bear.'

'Such are the matters of war.' Éomer said without looking at her.

'The little boy, I shall never forget him. He was too young for such a grim fate.' She said.

'It was his time.'

She met his eyes and was not prepared to see the fire in them not so much reflecting as burning from a rage.

'How could you say such a thing?' Her voice faltered.

'Death will come to us all in due time. How come, my lady, you so heedlessly seek it?'

'Seek it?' she said with indignation. 'I was trying to save a woman and her children. He was an innocent boy.'

'So you choose to stand against the Uruk-Hai?' Éomer said, his voice stern.

'I thought I would defeat him.'

'Then you are not only daring but simply foolish,' His statement made her gasp. 'Part of ones power is knowing ones limits, which clearly you do not.'

'What are you suggesting, my lord? Should I have simply left him there?' She was now getting angry while Éomer kept his temper under control, stern and unwavering.

'Was he not already beyond salvation?'

She glared at him, furious she said;

'You are a cold man Éomer, son of Éomund.'

'I am forged by a life of war, my lady. Someone who has seen battle claim its prize far too many times. Men are willing to pay with their own lives to see you safe and you favor them by throwing yourself into the midst of it without care for your own life.'

After an outdrawn silence Aema gathered herself;

'Éomer, I meant not to show such ignobility.'

'I know you meant no harm, my lady. Yet the battlefield holds no place for you. You may think me calloused and you may be right. A warrior's heart cannot expose itself to the horrors and dismay, a quality you still possess. I ask of you this, let your heart remain tender. For as much as it will hurt at times, your empathy will not be frozen and your joys will not be drowned in despair.'

He rose and put a hand on her shoulder.

'Rest now, my lady. I shall send word to your commander, for he has been awaiting your recovery.'

'The boy's mother?' Aema said.

'Do not feel concerned. She has been informed of her son's passing and I assure you, she held nothing but gratitude for you.' He gave her a smile before walking off into the shadows.

Aema remained in the warming light of the fire. She had not been prepared for Éomer's anger and found herself terribly upset by it. Part of it was likely misaimed since the little boys death had left her far from settled. The dancing flames in front of her became blurry as tears dimmed her eyes.

'Your Highness?'

Helke of Rohan was towering over her.

'Your Highness, I was asked to bring you this,' he held out a bowl of porridge for her and she only looked at it. 'You have better eat something, Your Highness. How else will you regain your strength?' he prodded.

She accepted the bowl and stirred the content.

'Thank you Helke.' She said.

'Your Highness, may I?' He looked to the spot Éomer had vacated and she nodded in reply.

'Do not burden yourself with the fate of the little boy, Your Highness! He was not destined for a long life.'

'So I have been told,' She said. 'I am allegedly at fault for simply hoping to save him.'

'So my lord Éomer has generously shared a piece of his mind I take it?'

Aema only snorted and looked away to hide the evidence of her reaction to Éomer's words.

'Do not take offense, your highness, his bark is worse than his bite. '

'He may be a boor at times, a boor who speaks the truth nonetheless. I am at fault here, what I did was foolish. Yet I wish I did not cause him such anger.'

'Rest easy, I hardly believe it is your foolishness alone that has caused him to be so at edge lately.'

'I beg your pardon but I do not believe I understand what it is you speak of? Have I done something else to offend him?' she said.

Helke simply laughed and shook his head. She found this evening utterly confusing and decided to retire and rest, hopefully finding the next day easier to fathom.

Éomer returned to the small fire outside his tent and found Helke still sitting there.

'Did she eat?' he asked.

'Well, if you call that nibbling eating, I'd say so,' Helke answered. 'Here, I brought you some as well. You haven't had a meal in half a day. Eat!' He offered him a bowl and Éomer gratefully accepted and took a seat. Helke watched him in the light of the fire as he finished the bowl with an obvious appetite;

'Quite fragile a lady, isn't she? She had me fooled. First time we met her I swear I thought her very bones were of sharpest steal.'

'I would suggest not expressing such things where she can hear you, my friend. Or else the sharp steel may yet return and take aim on you.' Éomer said and Helke chuckled.

'The lady retired to your tent.' Helke stated matter-of-factly.

'Mistress Alise was distraught last night, she decided to stay with one of the other attendants. The last couple of days have left the ladies weary, let them rest.'

'And what about you?' Helke said.

'I shall stay here, for now. I have endured many a days without sufficient sleep in my years.'

'Yet the solider in you has never denied thyself a proper rest before or after a battle if the possibility arises.'

Éomer ignored him and studied his bowl thoroughly.

Helke rose and chuckled once more and gave him a pat on the shoulder;

'Well my friend, you know where to find me if there is anything else I can do for you.' With that he ventured off into the camp.

Éomer tried to make himself comfortable in front of the fire to perhaps give himself a few hours of rest. He heard Aema stir in the cot inside the tent and what he heard told him she suffered an uneasy rest. A sudden shriek coming from inside made him bolt to his feet. He stood right outside the tent;

'My lady? My lady are you alright?' Upon receiving no answer he carefully lifted the flap and entered.

Aema was sitting up, panting. Her hair clung to her sweaty forehead and her hands were frantically rubbing the bruise on her neck.

'My lady?' Éomer said again.

'It was happening all over again…' she said in an unsteady voice, deliberately not looking at him.

'Dark dreams,' He said. 'They shall haunt you for awhile.'

He stood next to her when she realized she was wearing only her far too revealing shift and quickly she covered herself with a faint blush.

'You suffer them also?' she looked up at him, her eyes pleading. He knew about her lack of companionship, her loneliness but right now, in this very moment, she looked lonelier than ever. He sat down on the chair at the foot end of the cot.

'I did and I still do… sometimes.' He said and he could she her shoulders relaxing.

'I feel broken Éomer. My very spirit is broken.'

'I think you underestimate yourself. It would take more than a stinking orc to break your spirits. Of that I am certain. You are not broken, my lady, merely bruised.'

Aema smiled faintly at his wit although she attempted shooting him a glare. Her eyes rested on him for a moment, contemplating the man in front of her.

'All the things you must have seen…' she said finally. 'How does one live with it?'

'You remind yourself what it is you are fighting for and no matter what you lose you bethink all you still have. The fallen, you honor in your memory. They may be gone but never forgotten. You carry on. That's how one lives with it, that's how I live with it. You simply carry on.'

'I will never forget him.' She said.

'No, you will not.'

The conversation paused while they both lost themselves in horrid memories.

'I am sorry, Éomer.'

'There is no need for this my lady.'

'It is, and I am sorry. For I have shamed you. I have shamed you as well as myself.'

'Do not feel ashamed, I have seen mighty warriors break under the crushing power of terror in battle. And as for me, there is nothing you could ever do to shame me, my lady.' His consuming gaze held hers until she could not meet it anymore but looked down.

'Helke mentioned I might have done something to offend you? However I am afraid I do not fully understand what that might be?'

'Offend me?'

'He said something I did has kept you on edge lately? Whatever that might be, I am sorry.'

Éomer stared at her for a moment though she did not see since she was still purposelessly stroking the covers.

He cleared his throat;

'I assure you, you have done nothing to offend me.'

She finally looked up again.

'Thank you Éomer, thank you for your friendship.'

He rose and took a couple of steps towards her. Though hesitating, he put his hand around her neck and placed a soft kiss on her tousled hair.

'Now try to get some rest, my lady. The night is not yet over.'

After Éomer left, Aema found herself still sitting there. It was as if this man of Rohan had crossed her path solely to offer her comfort in her darkest moments of despair. Why he did so, she had asked herself often, but she felt a warmth she had not felt for many seasons. It felt as if the air flowed to her lungs unhindered and the echo in her heart had lessened. She let herself fall back on the cot and soon she was asleep. A deep, restful sleep that lasted until long past the first rays of sunshine lit the landscape.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

_The White Wizard_

'My lady!'  
Aema slowly opened her eyes to find Alise standing over her;

'My lady, do you plan to sleep for another day?'

'Oh, is it morning?'

'Not much is left of it but yes, I guess one could still consider it morning. Now if you feel rested enough I've had warm water brought and something for you to eat. I reckon you need both.'

'Thank you Alise, indeed I do.'

'I was asked to come get you. The men are meeting in Commander Malíec's tent, they requested your presence. However, I will not let you out of here until you have been properly seen to.'

'Well then Alise, there is no time to be wasted.' She got up, stretched and got out of her shift while Alise politely busied herself with other things so that she could have her privacy while she washed herself as good as she could without the access of a proper tub. Getting into a clean garb made her feel better than she could have hoped for. Yet sore, beaten and bruised she began to think that her aches would come to pass.

'My lady, may I ask why you decided to spend another night in this tent?' Alise let her eyes wandered around the tent with a disapproving frown on her face. 'I returned to ours and was surprised to not find you there last night.'

'I'm sorry, I guess I was too tired to consider it. I only woke up and had a small meal before falling back asleep. The thought of moving didn't cross my mind.'

'Mmhm,' Alise said suspiciously. 'And where, may I ask, did Lord Éomer sleep since you occupied his accommodations for two nights?'

'I do not know, oh my, I have no idea. Alise I did not consider that either.' Alise just smiled at her genuinely mortified expression.

'Don't worry yourself with that. I'm sure he fended for himself just fine. After all, he was the one insisting upon you staying here, claiming that way we both would get a well needed rest.'

'That was very courteous of him, I'll have to remember to thank him.' Aema said and Alise only snorted with a hint of a smile on her lips. Comb in hand she started going through the queens tousled hair. Stroke by stroke until she had it all in perfect order, gathered in a thick braid over Aema's left shoulder.

Emerging from the tent Aema was greeted with a bustle of activity. It seemed the camp were preparing to disassemble. Her skirts being caught by the frisky winds made her smile. A good night's rest and a thorough wash was not to be underestimated when it came to the effects of one's mood. She quickly walked the short distance to Malíec's tent and didn't bother to address the guard placed outside nor making her entrance known.

Stepping inside, the tent seemed dim compared to the brightness of the outdoors. Éomer, Helke and a few other men were standing around a table where maps were laid out. Her eyes fell on a man with an odd looking hat. Cone shaped and tall it covered a long white hair that was hard to distinguish from the equally long and white beard cascading from his chin. The men looked up at her arrival. Aema eyed the old man with curiosity.

'Your Highness,' Éomer spoke and with a gesture towards the old man he said; 'Gandalf brings word from Rohan.' She suddenly pulled her eyes off the man and met Éomer's eyes with a slight stare, again going back to the white bearded man as he moved towards her.

'Lady Aema of Romen, it seems you do not remember this old man. But I remember you, you see. Though you were no more than a babe in your mother's arms last I saw you.' He leaned on his staff and gave her a court nod of his head. She once again looked at Éomer for confirmation and an almost insignificant nod from him granted her what she sought.

'Master Gandalf.' She said. 'But you fell.. I was deeply saddened by the loss of you. How?' She trailed off. The men were likely past this already. The old man was here, he had _not_ fallen, for which she was very grateful. She returned to the conversation. 'Indeed I know you master Gandalf. You were a friend of my father, were you not?'

'That I was, that I was.' The wizard replied.

'What is the word from Rohan?' she asked as both her and Gandalf joined the others around the table.

'Gandalf informs me that Théoden King is no longer burdened with clouded senses. My suspicion of Saruman's involvement has also been confirmed.'

'Éomer, that's wonderful news,' Her spontaneous response was not met with the same enthusiasm as the men eyed each other. 'What is it? What is wrong? Speak!' she commanded.

'Rohan is under attack,' Gandalf stated. 'Saruman's army are marching for Rohan as we speak.'

Aema saw the pain in Éomer's eyes but she could not find the words.

'Théoden has ordered his people to make for Helm's Deep.' Gandalf continued. 'I understand that so are you? A wise decision on your part my queen.'

'If Saruman's army is already marching, do we have a chance of making it there in time?' Aema said.

'I believe it is a chance you must take Your Highness. I also trust that with haste your chances are good of making it. Théoden will welcome your people, but he will also want your men.'

'A fair assessment I'd assume, and certainly a fair arrangement,' She answered. 'So we are fleeing into open war then, somehow the wisdom of it seems questionable.'

'Times are strange. But do trust your have made the right decision.' He turned to the men, 'Time is now of the essence, prepare for departure and make haste!'

They all left the tent and Aema followed Éomer as he made his way down to the horse lines. As he reached Firefoot she caught up with him;

'Éomer, though circumstances are certainly not what any of us had hoped for, I am relieved to receive the news of your king.'

He focused on Firefoot's straps for a moment without speaking then he turned to her, one hand still on the saddle:

'I will not go with you.'

Confusion settled over her face;

'What are you saying? Where will you go?'

'Gandalf needs me to gather an army. Men loyal to the king are still scattered around the land. News of this has not reached them. Rohan needs them at Helm's Deep and Gandalf needs me to get them. We will ride out without delay and hopefully get them there in time.'

'But we need you!' Aema protested.

'I will not desert you. I bring only a few of my men. The rest stays under Malíec's command. Arrangements have been made. Do not fear, you will bring your people to safety.'

They held each others gaze for a moment until Aema stepped forward, reached up and placed a hand over his cheek;

'I cannot ask you to stay, for I know well your devotion to your king. If I may ask one thing, I ask that you return to me. Let not this be the last I see of you.'

Éomer placed his hand over hers, turned his face slightly and softly kissed the her palm. He brought her hand down, still holding it and smiled before releasing it;

'If you vow to stay out of harms way Aema, I shall strive for a safe return.'

Untying Firefoot he turned him around and mounted. Locking eyes he smiled at her once more before setting off in a trot. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to lessen the chill of the frisky winds. Watching him disappear she realized this was the first time she had ever heard him speak her name. Again this rider had left her confused. How could her heart be overflowing with warmth and yet breaking from the sight of his departure? With a sigh she tore her eyes away from the rider disappearing from her view and made her way back to the others.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

_Arrival at Helm's Deep_

The people of Romen truly made haste over the next two days. In caution they sent out scouts to the north, south, east and west whom brought nothing to report when they returned. Children and elderly were given priority to ride the horses, all so they could keep their pacing up. During the afternoon of the second day the fortress of Hornburg was towering before them across the valley. The Rohír were still making their way into the fortress and the caves they all knew lay hidden inside the mountain. Malíec ordered the people to a halt, they would bide their time while himself and the queen sought audience with Théoden King.

After crossing the field and entering the fortress they were escorted into a hall where the King was to be found.

Upon entering she spotted them immediately. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were there as well as the king..

Aragorn got up;

'You are here!' he took her outstretched hands in his and a small smile showed on his face.

'Aragorn!' she said. 'I doubted you when you were right.'She said and regarded him;

'You are injured.' she said. His eyes trailed downward and he brought his hand up moved her collar aside.

'So are you it seems.' She waved her hand dismissively.

'I was foolish. I overestimated my power and it bruised me. More so my ego than my neck if we are being honest.'

Aragorn raised an eyebrow as to underline that he somehow was not surprised.

'I learned my lesson, I do not need more chiding. Your accomplice took care of that some nights ago.'

'Ah yes, Éomer.'

'Éomer?' The king had walked up to them without any of them noticing.

'Théoden King,' Aema said with a court nod.

'Queen Aema, your face offers light in the most dire of hours. Long has it been since I last saw you but Rohan has never failed to welcome the people of Romen. Now what about my sister-son? He is with you, is he not?'

'I am afraid he is not. As you may know I offered him sanctuary and he rode with me but we parted some two days ago. He is now riding with Gandalf, gathering aid. Fortune bring them here before it is too late. He left many of his men with me, whom are already joining your forces I reckon.'

'You are a bringer of good news dear lady of Romen.'

'Thank you my lord. I have come to seek refuge for my people. I must tell you my land now stands empty as we do not have the power to stand against Saruman's forces alone. Across the valley all of my kingdom is awaiting your admission. I regret not being able to send word to you, but there was no time.'

'All of you kingdom?'

'Yes, my lord. The men I have are under your command, if you wish it. I ask only for the protection of Hornburg for the women and children.' She said.

'Any hand capable of wielding a sword is required to do so I'm afraid. Do understand, I am grateful for each and every hand that will,' he paused. 'Now bring your women and children in without delay, we cannot afford wasting precious time.'  
Aema sent Malíec off to carry out the orders of bringing the people in.

'My lord, is there anything else you ask of me in return?'

'Live to see another sunrise dear, for your father and for your people.'

'Do not despair my lord. Éomer will return.'

'If fortune be with us we will feast together when this is over. Retire now to the safety of the caves. You will find Éowyn, aid her the best you can.'

Aema was happy to hear Éowyn's name. Though she wished they could see each other under different circumstances, it was nonetheless comforting with a familiar face.

'Certainly my lord.'

'It eases my mind to know my niece will have you there.' The King said before his attention was requested elsewhere.

Aema turned to Aragorn once more;

'Aragorn my friend, we are here now. What chances do we stand?'

The three men were silently eyeing each other.

'Aragorn?'

'An army of ten thousand Uruk-Hai is marching from Isengard. They will be here by nightfall.'

'Ten thousand…' she said breathlessly her eyes big and suddenly full of fear. She looked around the other men but found no comfort in their eyes.

'Nonetheless we will fight.'

'The king asked me to live to see another sunrise, I ask of you the same.' She said.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

_Into the caves_

She did not delay in the King's hall since everything was now carried out with haste. The faces of the men she passed were grim and focused and she did her best not to get in their way. The path toward the caves were crowded with people. Her own people should be making their way across the valley and she trusted Malíec with the situation. Times like these were not when you called upon protocol, you simply did what you deemed necessary, or so Aema thought. She would not linger, waiting for her people to enter. She sensed her capable hands were needed and she would meet that need as she expected of each and every one of her citizens once they arrived. As she was pushed and shoved along the path, she watched old men and those who could hardly call themselves men coming back out. The horror when she realized they were being forced to service in battle was overwhelming. Right inside the entrance of the caves she saw a Rohirric solider trying to pull a young boy from his mother's arms. She could not help herself and stalked right up to them;

'Solider, release him!' she tugged on the soldiers arm for emphasis. He looked over his shoulder at her;

'I'm sorry ma'am', kings orders. All men who can bear arms are ordered to fight in the upcoming battle.'

'MAN!' She shrieked. 'He is merely a boy, you let him go this instant!'

'Sorry ma'am' I need to ask you to keep moving, this does not concern you.'

'Do not address me as ma'am, I am the queen of Romen and I order you to release this boy!'

The solider hesitated for a moment not loosing his grip on the boy's arm.

'Your Highness, I beg your pardon. However I cannot go against my king's wish.'

'You will, I will answer to your king, you have my word. Find mercy in your heart, release him. I ask you.'

The solider looked at the horrified face of the boy, letting his eye wander to the desperately crying mother and then back to Aema. Without a word he let the boy go and just walked away. The boy flew back into his mother's arm and she held him tightly.

'Thank you, oh thank you Your Highness… thank you.' The woman said between her staggering breaths.

Aema simply smiled at her and kept moving further into the caves trying to avoid seeing all the mother's whose arms were now empty.

Aema spotted Éowyn. The fair haired woman was, as it seemed, making herself a designated place of the most comfort she could muster with the few blanket rolls she had brought. Walking up behind her she addressed her;

'Éowyn?' Éowyn turned around to face her and it took her only a moment to change her expression from unfamiliarity to recognition.

'Aema? Is that you?' Aema smiled;

'Indeed it is.'

The women hugged each other dearly.

'I did not know you were coming though I guess we share reasons for being here?'

'My land stands no chance on its own Éowyn. That's why we have come. We seek the protection of your king and he graciously granted it. My people should be making it in as we speak.'

'It is lovely to see you, though I wish it was something more joyous that brought you here.'

'We have much to talk about but first I'd like to know if there is anything I could assist you in?' Aema said.

'I assume you too were sent down here to find bedding and food for the women and children. And also the men, shall they return.'

'I came to seek the protection of these caves, I was asked to assist you.'

Éowyn snorted.

'They are out there, fighting for us. Finding valor in battle while I am here simply biding my time awaiting their return. Little boys he orders to go to war. Boys who have to make due with short swords for the weight of a sword is too great for them while he denies me the chance to fight.'

'I spoke to Lord Aragorn. I understand there are ten thousand orcs marching towards us. Éowyn, be it in battle or in cave, I am afraid we shall not live to see another dawn.' She lowered her voice so that the people passing them would not hear.

'I rather face death in battle then to be caved and cornered like a rodent.' Éowyn said.

'Éowyn, I was arrogant enough to think I could defeat the Uruks. You are a shield maiden, no doubt your skills with a sword exceed mine, yet they are a powerful enemy. One I could not master,' She pushed her collar aside to reveal the dark bruise on her throat. 'Had it not been for your brother, I would not have survived.'

'Éomer! Where is he? He rides with you, does he not? Lord Aragorn told me he was to be found in your land.'

'He rode with us yes. Now he is riding with Gandalf to gather men throughout Rohan. He will come and if fortune be with us he will come while there is still time.' Aema said.

The women sat down on the ground waiting for people to settle in. It was obvious that it would still be awhile before everyone had entered the way the people were still flooding through the gates.

'How is my brother?' Éowyn said turning to Aema.

'I'm afraid I cannot answer you. I believe he is troubled, as are we all. I imagine his exile pained him tremendously though he never spoke of it.'

'It broke his heart, Aema, as it did mine. I was the reason for his exile. He was protecting me.'

'From what I know of him now, he would do it again. No matter the pain it caused him.' Aema said.

'You speak the truth, he would indeed.'

Éowyn's anger and frustration was obvious and Aema sympathized with her. Feeling overprotected and underestimated had made her as angry mere days ago. However she found herself humbled from the experience with the Uruk. Though it stung her pride, she admitted defeat to herself and found comfort in the fact that neither Éomer nor others seemed to think less of her for it. She would not deny Éowyn her anger though, for even if she herself had been overpowered, more easily than she liked to think, Éowyn might not be so fragile. She was taller, stronger and brought up as a shield maiden of Rohan. She might indeed be a force to be reckoned with. The woman sat in silence, awaiting the seemingly never ending flood of people to come to an end and the gates to be closed. Aema took in her surroundings. The caves were magnificently beautiful with walls of ore, gleaming in the light of the torches and stalactites hanging from the vaulted ceilings like frozen, crystal icicles.

As the gates finally closed the people in, Éowyn and Aema busied themselves with making tea over small cook fires to warm those in need of it. It was when they once again returned to their blankets they heard the terrifying sound of thousands of feet marching, gaining with each step. The immensity of an army that could make the ground itself quiver under their stomping feet, dawned on the people within the caves and all fell silent.

Only children's sobbing were heard. The two women looked at each other, no one spoke a word, for the gravity of the situation was causing the air to seem too thick to breathe.

As the thundering roars of battle was raging outside there was nothing the people inside the caves could do but fight the urge to give into their fears. Each moment seemed endless as they all listened intently, trying to make out the events outside. Aema thought of Aragorn, Éomer and the other men, her friends, guards, her people out there, caught in the midst of this evil that had been sent upon them. Her heart was willing to give in to the despair of never seeing them again but she determinedly forced those feelings to surrender to hope. Torn between hope and despair there was nothing any of them could do but wait.

Suddenly the mountain itself was rattled by a deafening boom. The startled outcries of the people abruptly cut the silence. Nobody knew what had happened for they were still sheltered by the mountain walls and closed within the gates. Yet following the tremor the sounds of battle seemed to have moved disturbingly close.

'They must have breached the fortress,' Éowyn spoke in a low voice to Aema. 'we need to hold the gates, can you wield your sword?' Éowyn's eyes fell upon her arm. Aema swallowed before steadily meeting Éowyn's eyes;

'Our fate lays hidden behind the gates, I shall meet it by your side. We shall fight it, together.'

Swiftly they started gathering the few people within the caves that could strengthen their defenses while herding the people further from the gate. Readying themselves for whatever was to come, they found themselves once more having to do nothing but wait. Aema looked out over the mass of people, huddling together as if that would shelter them from the threatening storm of enemies. When they came she would surely be slaughtered before having to watch the same fate befall the people and the children behind her. The daunting thought offered her comfort, something that in turn left her feeling disheartened and petty. The death of the boy still haunted her and she had not been prepared for so soon meeting battle once more.

Wielding her sword furiously at the scattered orcs that found their way into the caves, Aema had found a new strategy to face them. Her sword was more of a distraction as she used the benefits of her small, nimble stature to get closer to them and with a dagger she had armed herself with before breaking camp, cutting their throats. Her fear had soon given way for fury and determination. She would not fall, the fortress would not fall. For every drop of orc-blood she spilled, she hungered for more. Éowyn fought beside her. Elegantly evading the orcs blunt attacks. Strong was her hold and stern her face as she pierced her enemies as they came. Not once did she falter, not once did weakness show. Aema's heart was blackened by hatred as she slashed and stabbed at the beasts that kept coming. She persistently ignored the pain blazing up her arm yet it reminded her not to underestimate her enemy. Though it did not make her hesitant, her caution was what brought her the advantage she so desperately needed. The two women fought for their lives and that of other's when word reached them that the caves were to be evacuated by orders of Lord Aragorn. They only had time to lock eyes for a short moment, both looking reassured that he was obviously still alive. The order however, they ignored while most other's heeded it. Suddenly an orc brushed passed them. Éowyn, called out while she was fighting off her opponent;

'_Kill it, Aema!'_

Aema held her dagger in a tight grip as she pursued the uruk, making its way down the path of the cave. The orc must not have taken notice of her and she was determined to use the advantage. In two wide strides she climbed a rock on the side of the path and pushing for all she was worth she launched herself against the back of the creature. The impact of her jump was not enough to bring it down but Aema wasted no time. As the beast growled of surprise she hung on to its shoulders, reached around and cut his throat from behind. The dagger slid easily through its rough flesh and came out on with a spatter of dark blood as proof she had succeeded. The blood colored the cave wall with specks that soon started making dark streaks as it slowly ran down towards the ground. The slit in his throat gurgled as the spume of blood kept gushing out. He staggered for a few steps until loosing his balance and Aema's weight made him stumble backwards and they fell. She hit the ground with the weight of the Uruk on top of her. The air in her lungs were compressed and violently forced out by the blow of the hard rocks underneath. She fought for air and was relieved when finding she could manage a breath. She panted while trying to gather herself. She made a futile attempt to get out from underneath the stinking carcass, it took some effort but finally she crawled out from under it and try to rid herself of the stink he had rubbed off on her. There where no more Uruks finding their way into the caves as she walked back to where Éowyn stood.

'The men must have managed to stifle the attack on the caves.' Éowyn said as Aema reached her.

'We cannot trust they will not come again.'

Suddenly the ground started quivering again and a thunderous, lasting sound came from outside. Aema's fear grew once more;

'What evil is this now? Have the men not enough to stand against?'

'That, my friend, is no evil,' Éowyn replied with a look of relief. 'That is horses charging. A large number indeed.'

'Éomer!' Aema said to which Éowyn nodded.

'My brother has arrived, whether it was his love for his country or mere luck that brought him here, he has come. Bless the fortune for his arrival.'


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

_Victory_

The ceaseless black sea of Uruk-Hai surrounded Éomer and his fellow eorlingas. He had fought himself weary in the shadow of Hornburg and yet waves of orc-men were still crashing against their defenses. The sun was mocking them from it's eastern point in the sky, casting light on the devastation of the valley. The ground lay covered in corpses of men and orcs alike. The night's rain and the trampling of thousands of hooves and feet ensured most were far beyond recognition. Death surrounded the men still standing as they slashed their swords and pierced their spears into any foe within reach. Bravely they fought and died until the black waves finally subsided.

Théoden's voice carried over the turmoil;

'_VICTORY!' _he cried. '_VICTORY!'_

The Uruk-Hai were fleeing for their lives. They all ran towards the trees and Éomer let them, commanding his men to stay clear. In stillness the Riders of the Mark then watched as the forest started moving in an utterly unnatural way. Howls of terror were heard from the Orcs as it seemed the trees gorged on them. Éomer commanded those of his men that were in need of healing to seek it, the others were tasked with the ever so grim search of the battlefields.

'_Find our brothers. If they are never to return, we will give the women and children the peace of knowing they died in honor.' _

Éomer rode Firefoot up to the gate of the fortress. There he came upon Éowyn just bidding farewell to Aragorn who seemingly was on his way into the hold. Éomer eyed the other man suspiciously as he walked up to his sister. When she spotted him she wasted no time but ran to meet him and upon getting to him she embraced him and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently on her forehead.

'Éowyn, how I have longed to see you. How are you faring?' she released him and instead met his eyes.

'I am well, dear brother. Even more so now when you have come.'

'You look rather pale, are you sure you are well?' he said.

'Merely tired. The Uruk-Hai made it into the caves and we had to fight them off. There were not too many of them and we managed quite well, but it's nonetheless tiring as I'm sure you of all people know brother.'

'Aema, the queen? The people of Romen, did they come?'

'Indeed. The queen is quite handy with a blade, we fought well together.'

'She fought? Éowyn, she was injured not three days ago.'

'Yes brother, so she told me. She also wielded her sword as if no pain was upon her.'

'Do you know where she is to be found?' he said.

'She took her leave, I saw her climbing the stairs not too long ago.'

'We have much to speak of you and I, in due time. I have to ask your pardon, I now need to go.' He said as he stroked her shoulder and brushed by her, making his way to the stairs. Éowyn watched him go with slight confusion.

After washing the battle off and tending wounded as best she could Aema gratefully accepted the other women's offer to go find rest. She emerged from the caves and was met by the horrifying aftermath of battle. As she sidestepped the bodies of those fallen as well as injured men resting against the walls, she climbed the stairs upward. She reached the wall of the fortress, the wind taking hold of her garb and hair and there she paused. Looking out over the field she took in the magnitude of the battle. They had guessed it from inside but the sight of it was something else completely. Unable to fathom how many men lay slain the fear gripped her heart as for whom they were. How many of them were her friends, who was no longer there, sharing the air she was breathing? The sound of approaching steps brought her out of her thoughts. She turned around to see Éomer standing behind her;

'Éomer.' She mouthed. He stepped up to her and for a moment they only looked at each other.

'Your presence again brings me a relief I'm unable to express to you. You are unharmed.' She spoke the last words without knowing if they were meant as a statement or a question, either way she did not expect an answer neither did she receive one. She wore a trembling smile on her lips and she hesitated before raising her hand and ever so tenderly stroking a wisp of hair from his face. Her eyes were shimmering of unshed tears as Éomer took her hand in his and looked at it before letting his eyes wander over her arm and back to meeting hers.

'Min'litha.' he said. Words Aema did not know, she did not even know what tongue he spoke and her face revealed her confusion. A confusion Éomer met with a smile;

'You are cold,' he closed his hands over hers. 'We are both unharmed, I kept my vow of a safe return, though I hear you my lady, might have broken your part.' She pulled her hands back from his at his words.

'I… What would you have me do? Should I have simply awaited the enemy to enter and slaughter everyone, beginning with me?' her exasperation brought Éomer to a hearty laughter. Her indignation was clearly visible and she let out a growl before being unable to resist joining his mirth;

'You are an impossible man, Éomer, son of Éomund.'

'Well, of women I've known, you do not strike me as the most yielding of them all.'

'You…you…' she trailed off as she could not think of a suiting reply since she couldn't very well deny his words. 'Speaking of unyielding women, have you spoken to Éowyn?'

'I have. My King is once more the honorable man he was. My sister is safe and so are you. This is indeed a joyous day.'

At his words she again turned to gaze over the field beneath them and spoke softly;

'So many lives undone. So much grief.'

'They died with honor.'

'Yes. But how will honor make up for the void they leave behind? They were all our brothers, husbands and fathers. Our friends. For a moment I feared you would be one of them. How many tears can be shed for the sake of war before the women's eyes are dry of them?'

'Aema, many a heart lay broken this day, not solely those of the fallen but the hearts of those they left behind. Do not burden yourself with the grief of others when you already carry your own. Fortune shone its light on me for I do not lay slain on the grounds of battle, I am here, unharmed. Do not shed tears for what could have been. Before this is all over, what could have been may still be. Let's find solace in what is this day. Although we paid a prize, we yet stand victorious. The fallen gave their lives for our victory, let us honor that.'

'They gave their lives so that yours could be spared. How could I not honor that?' she said with a faint voice.

'Min'litha,' he said again, 'Though your heart may be open to all pain, you draw strength from a well that lay concealed within you,' he smiled. 'Your mind is a maze. Yet a maze I do not mind becoming lost in.'

Her blush deepened and she could no longer hold his gaze but lowered hers.

'Éomer, your words say more than I had ever hoped for. Your friendship is more than I had ever hoped for.' Her words came out as a whisper. With his hand under her chin he forced her to look at him again;

'You must know that you have had my friendship since first I met you?'

She did not reply but merely looked at him, her eyes big, deep and unreadable. He traced the line of her chin with his thumb before lowering his hand;

'The people will be traveling back to Edoras by sunrise, you will come, yes?'

'Edoras?' She said, unprepared for the sudden change of subject.

'Our fallen will be honored and the victory celebrated when we reach Meduseld. I ask you, come with us.'

'I have not seen Edoras for many seasons and I must admit, I would very much take pleasure in seeing your proud city once more.'

'I will not ride with you, but I will come. I will ride with a small company of men to Isengard as soon as we are rested. We will feast at Meduseld, darkness may still await us, but let us have one evening to forget our troubles'

'We will meet in Edoras then. I will ride with Éowyn and count the moments to the evening of rejoice. I think we all could find comfort in such an evening.' She said.

By the next sunrise the people left Hornburg and Helm's Deep behind and made their way back towards Edoras. Aema was riding next to the lady of Rohan and they were both enjoying each others company. They spoke of the time they had spent together as girls and shared memories that lured giggles from them on more than one occasion. Ar was walking at a steady pace, his size easily making up for the speed the Rohirric horses gained from their lithe. When the sun reached its peak Aema had gathered enough courage to turn to her friend; 'Éowyn, do you know what one would say if they spoke the words min'litha?'

Éowyn swiftly turned her head to stare at her seemingly surprised;

'I do. But where did you hear them?'

'Oh, my curiosity got the better of me. I did not mean to probe in any way.' Aema was equally surprised by her friends blunt response and clearly avoiding answering where she had heard them but Éowyn had a notion and continued;.

'I think it might be elvish tongue or perhaps an expression from an age passed. In truth, I am not certain. I have only ever heard them spoken by my mother. That is what she used to call my brother and I, min'litha. Once she told me it means "my light".'

Aema did not reply but could feel the heat of her cheeks. 'My light' she mouthed, turned away from Éowyn. Had she not turned away she would have noticed her friend still watching her with a knowing smile that would have left her feeling even more exposed. She had not meant to parade the budding emotions so, but she knew she had in a way that was beyond reckoning.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

_Edoras_

Edoras stood proud and the golden hall shone in the rays of the sun. The familiarity was soothing for her soul as Aema strolled the halls of Meduseld. She had not been outside of Romen many times since being crowned and the heart of the Riddermark seemed mighty to her compared to the worn down surroundings of her home. She could see the pride with which the Rohirric people carried themselves being reflected in their crafts. Strong, looming yet with a shimmer of gold. It seemed a fitting description of the place as well as its people. Her own kingdom did not differ much from the Riddermark, they were after all descendants and related in blood as well as culture. The Rohir however, were a people of proud warriors. Generation after generation they had been forged by the loss and cruelty of battle. Romen had been spared such a fate, until now. Not in small part to the protection the riders of Rohan had provided through the centuries. Her people were also proud indeed, hard working and loyal but compared to the Rohirrim people, she noticed the lack of strength the riders of the Mark presented so well.

She left the warmth in the halls of Meduseld and stepped outside and for the second time that day, pausing to allow herself to admire the magnificent view from the plateau. The grass of the plains moved like a golden sea in the wind and the houses of Edoras clung to the hill sloping right beneath the great hall. Just earlier that day she had welcomed the company who returned from Isengard. It had been a brief moment in the stable yard but she had had the great honor of meeting the two hobbits who returned with the men. They seemed a strange folk to her. Small, as were told. They were men no taller than boys but they had been mighty courteous and their minds seemed joyful, almost unaffected by the terror that swept over the lands these days. She was indeed looking forward to spending more time with the halflings. They seemed to have much to tell and Aema was always one to be curious. Making it down the wide set of stairs she aimed for the stable yards once more. It seemed ages ago Aema had a moments rest from the troubles of the world and while the relaxation was welcome it made her aware that she felt worn to her very bones. As she strolled across the stable yards she noticed that the stables were a magnificent building in itself. She had failed to pay any heed to it earlier and smiled to herself as she found she was not surprised by the grandeur. The people of the mark were fond of their horses and it made sense that they would treat them close to equals. She recognized Éomer's steed lazily chewing away in the pasture connected to the building and walked up to lean against the fence enjoying his contagious leisure.

Éomer placed the filled bucket of water back in Firefoot's stall. Éowyn was there, keeping him company. They both found solace in the stables and would therefore often spend time there with what may have seemed like trivial tasks. The stable attendants were used to sharing their work with the niece and nephew of the king and did not pay any mind to it. From the next stall, Brego snorted at them, impatiently awaiting his feeding. Brego had been their cousin's horse but was now ridden by Aragorn.

'I watched Lord Aragorn speak to Brego, it was quite a wonder.' Éowyn said while watching the horse. Éomer looked up, grunted a reply and returned to his task.

'He spoke the elven tongue like he was one of them. Did you know he grew up in Rivendell?'

Éomer looked at his sister, eyebrow crooked with amusement as she attempted innocence;

'Did you?'

'I knew him to be closely involved with the elven folks, but of his childhood I must admit, I do not know much.' Éomer said.

Éowyn suddenly becoming slightly ill at ease, her eyes avoiding his;

'He told me so. Here, in the stables, before we rode out for Hornburg.'

Éomer closed the stall and took the hand of his rambling sister, secured it in the crease of his arm and slowly escorted her out of the stables;

'It seems your heart has bloomed into womanhood during my absence, sister,' He said with a smile. She fiercely studied the path in front of her feet. Her cheeks spotted with a modest rosy tint.

'He is a good man, a man of virtue and I would wish nothing less for you.'

She grabbed hold of his arms and leaned her head to his shoulder with a bright smile. Walking out onto the stable yard, Éowyn spotted Aema by the pasture.

'Well my brother, my heart does not seem to be the only one that has made its wish known.' He stopped and turned towards her as she nodded her head in Aema's direction; 'I shall go, there are plenty that needs to be done still before the evening comes.' He stared at her with a stern look but Éowyn just walked away, giggling in the teasing way he recognized all too well. Éomer watched Aema lovingly stroking Firefoot's muzzle as he walked up to her.

'He likes you. Usually only his master gets to handle him so.' Éomer leaned against the fence next to her and met her eyes.

'Handle? What living thing shies away from appreciation and love?' She stroked the horse again and smiled as the horse nuzzled her hand.

'This one does. In all sincerity, he must like you.'

'Well then, it is a mutual liking. He is a fine animal and besides, I was merely thanking him for carrying you back safely.' Éomer smiled and looked down;

'A mutual liking indeed. You seem to be comfortable here?'

'Oh Éomer, I do love it here. The sheer beauty of your land is breathtaking. Thank you for having me and my people, it has been too long since last I laid eyes upon the golden sea of the Riddermark.'

'Say, have you paid any heed to what is to come? Will you stay?'

'I do not believe we could safely return to our home as of yet. I have not spoken to Théoden King but I would prefer to stay, if only for a time.'

'Speak to him, I do not see a reason for him to deny your request. Hopefully Edoras will show the people of Romen the same hospitality as they did us. Now, may I escort you back inside? I have matters to attend to before this evening.' He offered her his arm and she took it and strolling over the stable yards she let him escort her back to her chambers.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19  
_The feast of celebration_

The great hall of Meduseld was crowded with people by festive tables. Théoden King stood on the dais with lady Éowyn and lord Éomer behind him. Aema, sitting across Aragorn watched Éomer standing behind his king, back straight yet burdened with the loss of men. Men who's lives they were gathered to celebrate. He looked proud and regal where he stood. A son of kings he was, yet the warrior within him had been nurtured since early on, and thus naturally taken precedence.

The sound of Théoden's voice carried over the room;

'Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country,' he lifted his goblet, 'Hail the victorious dead!'

Everybody in the room lifted their tankards and cried;

'_HAIL!_'

So they drank and feasted, celebrating the victory of Hornburg. The atmosphere breathed joy and cheer as people decided to heed the victory, not the loss. This night they were sound within the walls of Edoras and they knew the future held much sorrow so in an almost desperate manner, they savored the moment of celebration.

Aema was drinking from another tankard of ale. She had always preferred the sweet taste of wine, but the Rohir were almost as cultivated in the art of ale-brewing as they were in horse-breeding. Gladly she accepted the refreshments since the hall had grown hot and the air stuffy. The viola players played lighthearted, quick- paced songs and as she put her tankard down, she was once again asked to dance by a Rohir. Smiling she followed his lead as best she could until the song faded and a new one began. Returning to her ale, she had but one taste of it before one of the hobbits, master Meriadoc Brandybuck stood before her;

'Milady, would you honor me with a dance?' he said with a deep bow and offered his hand.

'Well master Meriadoc, I would love to.' She took his hand and once again walked out among the dancing couples. She had some trouble following his steps and every time she accidentally danced into him or he accidentally stepped on her toes, the two of them shared a hearty laughter. He twirled her around and around and for every moment that past, Aema felt her worries relieve their hold and her smile grew lighter and more radiating.

Éomer found himself serving ale to Gimli and Legolas while the dwarf was determined to win a drinking game. Foam covered his beard and it was getting harder to make out what the hairy, short man was saying. The elf on the other hand, still seemed unaffected by the game. Looking up over the barrel he spotted Aema dancing with one of the halflings. She looked so happy while leaning her head back and breaking out in a laughter that he wish he could hear over the music and boisterous men. No matter when he glanced her way she seemed to be enjoying herself with dancing. The little halfling seemed to have a refined taste in women since he was altering his time between the queen and the lady Éowyn, when he wasn't downing another ale or sharing a jolly song with his halfling friend. Éomer kept serving tankards to the dwarf and the elf until a rambling Gimli fell backwards and Legolas simply called game over. Leaving the loud cheers and the men around the barrel behind, he made it towards Aema. She was laughing with his sister and drinking from a tankard she held in both hands for it was made for a hand slightly larger than hers. His sister spotted him walking up and smiled at him, he cleared his throat;

'Aema, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?'

'Of course.' She took his offered hand and followed him.

He placed his hand on her lower back as she laid hers on his shoulder and he was pleasantly surprised when the violas brought a song of a slightly slower pace.

'What took you so long?' Aema suddenly asked and Éomer looked puzzled.

'I would have thought you would have danced with me by now, that's all.' She added and Éomer laughed.

'Well, you seemed rather occupied. I simply had to wait my turn to dance with the most favored lady of this eve.' She blushed at his words, which surprised him, after all she had started this conversation rather bluntly.

'For being a boorish soldier, you do have a way with words, Marshal.' She said and again made Éomer laugh.

'And you, my lady, have a talent for insulting and complimenting a man within the same sentence.'

As the song faded they stopped and he offered her an arm. When she took it she stumbled slightly but Éomer caught her;

'Are you well?' he said.

'Yes, yes I am, thank you. I just find myself slightly dizzy.'

'It is awfully hot in here, perhaps you should fare well from some air? Would you like to step outside for a moment?' She looked relieved as she nodded in agreement. As they passed a table she snatched her half full tankard to bring it with her. 

Stepping outside was indeed a pleasant change from the muggy indoors. The eve was brisk and stars studded the dark sky above. She lifted the tankard to her lips with both hands;

'If I may ask, how many of those have you had?' Éomer said.

'Oh, I am not certain. A hand full perhaps.'

'A hand full? That is enough to make a grown man feel dizzy! Aema, I think you may want to consider something else for refreshment.'

'I shall drink to my hearts content, why would your people make ale so tasty, if one is not to enjoy it?'

'Aema, I think it has affected you plenty.'

'Is it not the Rohirric way, to drink until your legs give in? I have certainly seen plenty of that this evening and I am merely trying to honor your traditions.'

'Well then drink you shall, for who am I to stop a lady so determined? But know you shall regret it come morning.'

'Why would I come to regret having the most glorious time? All the troubles of the world has simply melted away and left me feeling free and invincible.'

'I doubt your head will agree with your argument later on but that experience belongs to the morrow. It is lovely to see you smile once more.' She grinned at him before, in a slightly ungraceful manner, dropping herself down on the top of the stairs. He sat down next to her. Looking up at the night sky she said;

'My mother once said that the lights in the sky where windows to a world beyond ours. A place where the sun's always shining. I like to think that that is where they are. It seems like a lovely place, wouldn't you say?'

'Mm.' he said.

'Do you ever think of the end? Do you believe there is anything more to it?'

'I think little of it. We cannot possibly know so I waste no time on it.' He said. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed;

'I still like to think there is such a place.' He put his arm around her to shelter her from the wind.

'And I will not deny it.'

'Éomer?'

'Mm.' he answered again.

'How come you call me your light, yet I have caused nothing but trouble?'

Her words hung in the air for a moment before he spoke;

'When I arrived at your doorstep, asking your aid, you were my light. While I fought at Hornburg and defeat seemed inevitable, I thought of the sound of your laughter, and thus knew we were not fighting in vein. I have found a new purpose, your bliss is what urges me on, even when the obstacles seems overwhelming. Thus you are my light, for you guide me when all else seems lost. Do not speak of causing trouble. Finding you in harm's way is something I would rather never face again for it hurts me beyond deadly wounds. Trouble you cannot bring me, only hope. To me, you are what makes the sunshine everlasting. To me, even were darkness to swallow this world, your light would never go out.' He leaned his cheek to her head and they sat in silence.

Soon her breathing deepened and her body felt heavier against his. He looked down to find her eyes closed and could make out almost indistinguishable snores. Smiling he sat for awhile, listening to her sleeping. As the hour grew later, he gathered her in his arms and stood up. Looking down on her peaceful face he thought of when he first had met her. Her poise and queenly manner had made her seem far from foolish, yet here he was again, with her in his arms because of her miscalculations. He chuckled to himself. She was simply out because of too much ale, quite an ordinary occurrence in itself. Only now it was a queen, a very dainty woman, who had drank enough ale to put an ale-swinging soldier under. She stirred in his arms, mumbling something incoherent. He walked back inside unseen and carried her to her chambers. Upon entering, the impropriety of it all became evident to him but he concluded she would suffer more disgrace from people in the great hall finding out a queen was in this state. Deliberately not looking around in her bower he carefully put her down on the bed. He grabbed the folded bed cover and tucked her in. She lay so very still, parts of her fair hair framing her serene face with golden waves. Sorrow and strife seemed unable to touch her. He watched her, listened to her deep, calm breathing and oh how he wished he could offer her the same peace once the sun came up. Letting the tips of his fingers rest on her smooth cheek for a moment, he bid her a silent good night and retired.

Aema woke up from a bustle of activity outside. It seemed rather early in the morning for such a thing. She realized that she was fully dressed and sat up. The feeling of daggers stabbing her head from all directions at once was overwhelming. Carefully wiggling out of her dress she shed it on the floor next to her and curled back into bed. Moaning silently to herself she recalled the end of her evening. Éomer's warning about her head not agreeing with her seemed to have been true, and sourly she thought he probably spoke from experience. She was embarrassed to think about how she had shamelessly asked him why he called her his light. Word by word his answer came back into her mind. She wanted to believe the warmth of his words were lessening her aching head but though it was not true, it certainly made the blades of the daggers seem duller.

She must have dozed off for she was woken by a careful knock on her door. A young maid of Meduseld stepped in holding a tray;

'My Lord Éomer instructed me that Your Highness wanted breakfast served here this morning?' She set the tray down at the bedside table and left as quickly as she had come. Aema couldn't help but feel grateful for Éomer's consideration. She tried to eat as much as she could, though she suffered more thirst than hunger. After finishing most of what had been brought she was ready to get up and see what all the fuss outside was about.

She stepped inside the great hall and found Théoden King sitting around a table with Éomer, Helke, Gamling and a few other of the Rohirrim. Upon seeing her the king rose;

'Lady Aema, a good morning to you, please join us.' He pulled out a chair next to his for her and she accepted, suddenly aware of Éomer's gaze, she was not yet ready to meet it, feeling bothered about her actions the previous evening.

'Thank you,' she smiled at the king. 'I do not mean to pry, and pardon me if I do but I read concern on your faces and I couldn't help but notice that there is something amiss about people's whereabouts this morning.'

After a brief silence the king told her what had happened during the late night. He told her of Pippin looking into the palantir and his view of the enemies' plans, and how Gandalf had taken the halfling towards Minas Tirith with haste.

'So the enemy will strike at Gondor then,' Aema said softly. 'Will Rohan ride for her aid?'

'I have not yet reached my decision in the matter.' The king said.

'I see. How long do you think until we will hear from master Gandalf?'

'He will not reach Minas Tirith until at least the fourth day or fifth day so all we can do until then is wait. By then I will have decided what our course of action shall be.'

'I have other matters to discuss with you my lord, if you could find the time?'

All the others around the table excused themselves and left the king and queen to talk their matters over. Aema asked for the sake of her people if they could stay in Rohan for a while. The king indeed agreed with her that it did not seem they could make it back to their lands safely as of now and granted them sanctuary.

'I understand you were most hospitable to my nephew when I failed to be. Forever will it grieve me that I hurt him so. You and your people are welcome to stay as long as their queen see fit, I wish there were more I could do to make up for all the pain I have caused.'

'Sir, remorse will not offer either one of you relief. Both your niece and nephew are delighted you have returned to them, I doubt they would ever demand else of you. Now I ask your pardon, I must visit the camp and see to my people, I will bring them the news of your welcome and I humbly thank you.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

_Days of joy_

When she passed through the doors of the hall and stepped outside she was approached by Éomer, who had been awaiting her. He eyed the guards before speaking;

'My lady, may I accompany you to wherever it is you are going?' He held out his arm and Aema took it as they started down the stairs.

'I am on my way to the camp. I need to attend my people.'

'Ah yes, then I shall walk with you, if you don't mind?'

Aema only held on to his arms and studied the path ahead;

'I spoke with Théoden King, we shall remain in Edoras for the time being.' She said finally.

'That gladdens me.'

They remained silent as they made it across the stable yard and on towards the road leading down the hill.

'Éomer,' Aema said. 'Pardon me for my behavior last night.'

'There is no reason for this.' He said.

'And also, thank you. For I assume you brought me back to my chambers, though I cannot recall it.'

Éomer smiled at the memory of her sleeping soundly in his arms.

'Indeed, but you need not thank me.'

She stopped and turned to him. Holding his eyes, her voice was determined;

'I do, Éomer. Fortune knows I do. It seems to now be a habit of mine to alter between gratitude and asking your forgiveness. I...' she paused. 'I just cannot seem to..'

They were interrupted as riders came up the road and standing in the middle of the road as they were, they swiftly had to move aside. After the riders had passed and the clatter was fading they did not continue their conversation but instead walked on. As they walked through the town of Edoras, Éomer told her about the town and its citizens. He told her of how their blacksmith was known across lands for his incredible skill in balancing swords to perfection. He told her of how he, as a boy, had released all the innkeepers' chickens and how his wife had been all but pleased, in fact to this day he still feared her anger. This made Aema laugh her melodic laughter as she pictured a young mischievous Éomer, it seemed so far from the collected, strong warrior he now had become. They strolled and laughed together until the Romen camp came into view. Suddenly Aema seemed quiet and when Éomer heard a sigh escape her he spoke;

'What bothers you?'

'My people... I can't evade the feeling of having failed them,' her eyes swept over the camp. 'I am afraid it shall take some time to regain their trust.'

'The blame is not yours, they see that and if not, they will.'

'Thank you Éomer, but I was not seeking encouragement, I was simply stating what is on my mind.'

Éomer had no response to that and they walked the last stretch in silence.

With a bow he let her go but lingered there on the outskirts of the camp as she made her way in. Instead of turning back he found himself strolling after her. He greeted the people he recognized from his time in Romen and he was happy to see that they had managed to create a good camp with a homelike atmosphere to it, something rarely sensed in the camps he was used to. Children were running around, playing along the path that ran between the tents. Right in the middle of it, a cat had lazily laid down in a sun spot to enjoy the heat, only twitching an ear at the children's noise but otherwise ignoring the world around him. Above the tents he saw the green banner with its golden sunrise proudly rippling in the wind. When he reached what could only be described as a small open square he spotted Aema. He was not sure what he was doing there, so he stopped and while trying to decide if he was going to turn back or make himself known, he just watched her.

She seemed so familiar with the people around her. They approached her and she welcomed them. He watched her admire an infant on a young woman's arm, then hunching next to a blind old man, stroking his back while speaking softly to him. He had almost forgotten the queen she was. Seeing her now made him believe that this was her true element. He had thought her fragile and delicate for she was so little in stature. Seeing her overcome by fear, watching her hopes shatter and her heart give in to sorrow, seeing the terror in her eyes when the darkness crept into her dreams, all had made him believe her easily broken. Yet here she was with a great confidence and a genuine care for her people. He had been with her in her despair, he realized, only because she had wanted him to. She trusted him enough to let him into the deepest chambers of her heart. A trust that he suspected was not given heedlessly. This composed woman in front of him, she was the one her people knew. He wondered if they ever sensed the doubts she was harboring within. The sense of failing the Romen people was most likely something she laid upon herself for Éomer could not find anything that spoke of a general disappointment, rather the opposite was true. They seemed to find comfort in her presence and he wondered by what measures her standards were set.

'My lord.'

Éomer was slightly startled from commander Malíec's voice, his eyes darted from Aema to the man standing next to him. Malíec's eyes were focused on the queen and Éomer wondered how long he had been there.

'Commander.' He simply replied. The men said nothing for a moment until Malíec broke the silence;

'Any word on Gondor, my lord?'

'No, not yet.'

The commander's eyes shifted to Éomer;

'No word on Théoden King's plan of action once word reaches us?'

'No.'

'Shall Rohan decide to ride for Gondor, so shall we. You tell your king that.'

'Aye.'

The men once again trailed off to watch the queen, who was now busy with showing a small group of children how to play a game none of them recognized.

'She will stay behind, yes?' Éomer said.

'We have not talked about the matter, but I sincerely hope that is what she will do.'

'Her place is here, her people need her. They seemed comforted by her very presence.'

'Ah yes, she takes after her father. In compassion as well as stubbornness.'

'You worked for her father as well?'

'Indeed. I was in his personal guard. The queen is the one who made me commanding marshal, for that was a title her father held but she found it appropriate to appoint someone in his place.'

'I know so little of your land, yet our realm surrounds you. I understand that the correspondence between our countries dwindled after the king's passing.'

'You must understand, my lord. Her Highness was very young when she was crowned.'

'Yes, rumors of your child ruler reached us.'

Malíec gave him a slightly disapproving glance at his words:

'Yes, she was barely more than a child. She had just turned sixteen when her father passed and our land was left in her hands. Many voices cried for an appointed guardian to rule in her place until she was of age but she persisted and so the weight of the crown was placed on her.'

'A burden indeed for someone so young.' Éomer said.

'Mm, she has proven herself worthy and silenced the doubters. Though she is not without fault.'

It was now Éomer's turn to disapprovingly look to the other man;

'If one should be faulted for holding a courage greater than one's power.'

'My lord, I speak not of her courage nor do I mean to speak ill of her. But after spending time with her, which has come to my notice that you have, you should know as well as I, that her temper is a force to be reckon with were you to ignite it.'

Éomer felt ill at ease from his comment and studied the ground in front of him and in spite of himself let out a chuckle and nodded;

'That, I cannot deny commander.' He could not deny her temper nor the time he had spent with her.

Looking up he spotted Aema approaching. He did not know when she had noticed his presence and he had yet to figure out an explanation for it. The time he had was not sufficient to do so either as the Queen now stood before them;

'Lord Éomer, Commander,' she said and the men inclined their heads. Malíec was the first to speak and only to announce his departure. After bidding him farewell Aema once more turned towards Éomer;

'Since you are here, would you give me the pleasure of your company as I am about to retire to my tent for a midday meal, or perhaps you have already eaten?'

'No, no I have not and I shall accept your kind offer, Your Highness.' Grateful that she had shown him the grace of not questioning his presence, the glint in her eyes still told him she found the formal tone between them amusing. Together they walked to where the Queen's tent.  
'I saw you speaking to Malíec, I assume you are passed your differences?' Aema said.

'Aye. We fought well together at Hornburg. He is an honorable man.'

'I am glad you see him so.'

'He is important to you?'

'Yes, not only his rank, though that is of utter most importance but he has been by my side for so long. I owe much to him.'

'He spoke of working for your father.'

'He did. When I was but a girl he was around. When my father passed,' Aema paused, she had never grown used to speaking of that difficult time. 'After my father passed he counseled me in most matters, and he still does. His wisdom spreads wider than the battlefield and I do believe I would have been crushed under the weight of the crown if not for him. So yes, he means a great deal to me personally.'

Stepping in from the broad daylight outside, the tent seemed dim and somewhat heavy in its atmosphere. Since the Queen was residing in the King's hall, the tent was set up as a study rather than temporary living quarters as was more common. A desk with an open trunk of books next to it was placed to one side and then there was a temporary dining table, or what was supposed to resemble one. A maid scrambled to set the table for two and when she finished, Aema thanked her and asked her attendants for a private audience with "the third marshal of the mark". Éomer now shared her amusement of the formality around their spontaneous whereabouts. As they enjoyed the meal as well as each others company they had time to converse like they had been during their time in Romen. Since then, other matters had come between and the opportunity had not presented itself.

'Do you find your stay here to your liking?' Éomer asked.

'Very much so, thank you. Your city is as beautiful as I remember and its people have shown us nothing but generosity, something for which I will always be grateful.'

'A generosity that is merely returned to you.' He received a smile from Aema.

'When I look out over the golden sea of grass, or watch our children play, I can almost forget the looming evil pressing our borders.' He caught a shadow in her eyes.

'Are dark dreams still haunting you?' he asked with concern and Aema attempted a faint smile;

'Indeed. And I expect it to be so for yet some time. Though I have the benefit of waking up, the grimness in our days is far worse than any nightly terrors of mine.'

'Mordor shall not spread an ever night over our lands, we will be victorious, you must not loose hope.'

'I will not let go of my hope, for it is all I have left as of now. I cannot flee, and as I so painfully learned, neither can I fight so I can only hope.' They fell silent, pondering what lay ahead until Aema stood up to bring them both some wine from a serving table. As she stood with her back against him, Éomer suddenly spoke;

'I want to ask you forgiveness for my anger when you were injured.' Aema immediately knew to what he was referring. He had been very angry with her after she had fought the Uruk, an anger she did not soon want to evoke again.

'Do not, I ask you. I understand your anger, and you were right, have I not told you so?'

'I do not think you fully understand.'

'Éomer,' Aema walked up and placed a tankard of wine in front of him. She spoke but did not look him in the eyes, 'You are a voice of reason when my senses fail me.' She lowered her voice to almost a whisper, 'I cannot help but sometimes think you crossed my path solely to be a comfort when I cannot bare my grief alone.' She fell silent, still avoiding his eyes. He rose and placed a hand over hers to interrupt her fussing with items atop the table.

'Aema, do you not know you hold my affections? ' She did not reply, neither did she look at him, however, the fidgeting ceased. 'My anger stemmed from nothing else than my fear of loosing you.'

'I was foolish.' Aema whispered.

'That may be, but a fool I much desire alive. Min'Litha, understand this, without you I would be lost.'

She shifted slowly towards him, they stood close as her eyes finally met his. Éomer could not read the expression in them, it seemed they reached into the deepest, inner corners of his mind. He felt bare and exposed under her gaze but he did not mind. His own eyes wandered to her mouth. Her lips were parted ever so slightly they haunted him. He reached up and traced the line of her jaw with his calloused fingers, gracing her lips with his thumb. Locking his hand behind her neck he pulled her closer and paused for only a moment, as if to give her an opportunity to pull away, before he let his lips lightly brush hers. He felt her breath quiver before she placed her hands atop his chest and met his kiss.

Hungrily her tongue was seeking his and found it. She nestled her hand in his hair and pressed herself to him. Éomer was surprised by her response. She was a lady and he had expected nothing more than a chaste brush of lips. The woman in his arms was passionate, she gave herself to him without shame and seemingly without inherent restrictions. As he placed his arms around her and held her tight, while longingly exploring her sweet taste, an involuntary moan escaped her and Éomer felt as if he was about to loose control. Reluctantly he pulled away from her and she kept her eyes closed. She held on to him, letting a smile grace her lips before slowly opening her eyes;

'And so I lay my heart in your hands, Éomer, son of Éomund. In truth it has been yours to keep for some time.'

'A greater gift than I could ever had hoped for, min'litha. I have nothing to give in return then my own.'

'I ask for nothing more.' Aema answered before his lips once more found hers.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

_The bliss_

In the few days that followed all was still well in Edoras. Éomer and Aema spent each moment they could spare with each other. Something that had not gone completely unnoticed amongst others, though all still had the grace not to bring it to their attention. Those who knew them rejoiced in their obvious bliss and wished not to shatter it with share curiosity as they were all aware of the dark path ahead. Those who did not know them well, was oblivious to the young couples whereabouts as they were always careful with hiding behind formality in one way or the other.

During the next afternoon, Éomer had invited Aema to come riding with him. Officially he was showing her the surroundings of Edoras, not an untruth in itself.

The horses climbed the first scattered hillsides of the White Mountains just south of Edoras. The trees clinging to the hillside broke the gusty winds and allowed the warmth of the early afternoon sun to reach them. They had let the horses stretch their limbs in a long gallop over the waving grass fields that stretched between the town and the mountain range. Riding side by side they were pleasantly conversing;

'May I ask you about Lady Alise? I have not encountered her for some time, how is she?' Éomer asked.

'Alise is well. I gave her leave since the attendants of Meduseld is doing a splendid job in assisting me. I have seen her, she seems quite taken with one of your riders. I do not know his name but a handsome looking lad he is and I shall not stand between Alise and her happiness.'

'Oh.' He simply said.

'Oh? What are you implying?'

'So she has found her happiness, perhaps which is why she is not pestering us?'

'Éomer!' Aema chided through laughter.

'Pardon me, but she has not been very, shall I say approving, of...'

'Of your late evening visits in my tent and bowers?' Aema interrupted. 'Well pardon me, my good lord Éomer but neither would my father, was he still here or a brother if I had one.'

Éomer could not disagree, the only thing he could do was chuckle at her candidness.

They entered an opening that turned out to be a mountain shelf surrounded by trees on two sides. Behind them a small cliff made a rock wall as a backdrop and the view laid out before them was breathtaking. Aema looked around from horseback;

'Éomer, it is beautiful.' She sounded genuinely moved. Éomer dismounted Firefoot and let the horse stroll freely. He walked up to Aema and held out his hands to assist her. She carefully slid off the saddle and let his arms catch her. His hands were large enough to reach around her petite waist and with a firm grip he placed her softly on the ground. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his body and she dared not look up because she could feel the rose colored spots appear on her cheeks;

'Thank you.' She whispered. He released his hold and she already missed the feeling of him so close to her. They walked closer to the edge of the cliff and sat down in the green grass to enjoy the view together.

Éomer looked out over the plains below them. Across the valley the mount of Edoras stood proud and unyielding against the horizon. Next to him, Aema seemed lost in the grandeur, he had felt how her breath caught in his arms. She was so very little, it was all he could do not to cover her and shelter her from all evils of the world. It seemed to him a strong enough wind would be able to sweep her up and away. Aema looked to him with a beaming smile;

'Thank you for bringing me here.' Éomer put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight.

'I was hoping to steal another moment with you.' Her cheeks were again touched by rose tinted spots by his words.

'Would you still call it stealing, when these moments are something I give to you freely?' she said as her eyes dropped to the ground.

She leaned in towards him and he put his arms around her.

'Éomer, am I in the wrong for feeling so happy when the world is suffering?' He kissed her hair.

'No my love, if there was ever a time to savor happiness, I believe it is now.'

She turned to kiss him and he did not delay in answering her silent request. The world around them could have tumbled and fallen without them noticing in that particular moment. Aema did not let go of his lips as she turned her body to face him, slowly inching closer until she could place herself atop his lap. Their desirous kisses deepened as Éomer's hands gently hugged her hips. As she pressed her body to him he let out a tormented sound and separated himself from her.

'What bothers you dear?' she asked with feigned innocence. Her voice was different, it sounded… seductive and with all his might Éomer fought the urge to let his passion overrule his senses. He cleared his throat and murmured half to himself;

'Whether death or madness takes me first, you shall be the end of me woman.'

She looked at him through her eyelashes, her gaze longingly aimed at his lips as she whispered;

'Numerous foes you have bravely faced and fought, yet a strong soldier like yourself fear me? I cannot see how I could drive you into madness?' her feigned innocence was back as she let her fingers trail down over his arms and chest. Éomer pulled her closer and buried his face in her neck and growled aloud. Aema leaned back and burst out in a clear laughter.

As she once more settled next to him, secure in his arms, Éomer thought of the woman beside him. She still confused him. Blushing at his remark of wanting time away from others, yet approaching him in an all but shy manner just moments later. He did not disapprove, he did not think he could find a man roaming any land of Middle Earth that would, but he found it to be somewhat surprising. He looked down at her and for some reason the thought of his sister appeared in his mind. Luckily she had yet to expose him to brotherly worries of the kind, but thoughts of her and a future suitor in a similar situation anger flushed through him. The mere thought of someone defiling his sister, of her shamelessly tempting a man.. Éomer felt shame creeping up within him. He was dishonoring someone's daughter in this very moment. Then shame gave way to clarity. Aema had no father nor brother. She had bloomed into womanhood with no one around to lay restrictions on her. She knew well what was expected of her and decorum in any given situation but when it came to passion she was free. Alise had most likely done her best to teach her but her words did not pierce a young woman's heart the way a fathers would have. She had been left to discover the secrets within adulthood for herself, therefore her actions were not some imitation of the bar maids frivolous teasing, it was honest passion and desire that she freely shared with him. In his moment of clarity, he was overwhelmed by love for the small being leaning up against him as she sighed with content.

They parted ways in the stable yard of Meduseld and after Éomer had seen to the horses he came across Aragorn lounging, watching a stable attendant breaking a filly.

'She's a fine animal that one. A little small for a battle mare but nonetheless she will make a good riding horse.' Éomer said.

'Aye, he's got a good hand with her.' Aragorn replied.

'The halfling, Merry. How is he faring? He seemed distressed by the events the other morning?' Éomer said.

Aragorn sighed;

'Yes, he's a hardy one. Yet being parted from his friend, the situation they find themselves in... Hobbits are a peace loving people, the war of men is not a place for a hobbit to get lost. However he is trying to keep his head up, I dare say he's showing a surprising courage.'

'Something we have seen too many times of late. Courage is an honorable thing it itself, yet it will not save your life have you not the power to match it.'

Éomer eyes wandered off to the path Aema had walked as she left him, something that did not go unnoticed.

'Tell me, Éomer friend. How is the lady Aema faring? I have not had many moments to speak to her myself.'

'She is well, considering. A great ruler for her people, though I think she takes on too much responsibility for things that are out of her hands. I must admit upon first meeting her, I did not know she was such a complex woman.'

'Aren't they all?' Aragorn mused and received a chuckle from Éomer.

'Indeed friend, indeed.'

'She was none too pleased with my intentions to protect her at first. Though she was humbled by the experience with the Uruk-Hai in West Emnet I believe she is still grieving for the boy. Women folk and children do not belong in battle. Their hearts should not have to bare such horrors.'

'I'm afraid this war will spare no one. The darkness of Mordor holds no concern for women nor children. All we can do is keep them out of harms way for as long as our forces will hold. The Lady Aema is still strong at heart, I trust she will carry her share,. Though I, as you, wish to relieve her of it.'

Giving his friend a firm clap on the shoulder as a good bye, Aragorn said nothing about his observations. He deemed it to be none of his concern to voice matters of others hearts. Had he been worried he might have done so, but Éomer had become a good friend and a great man he was. 


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

_The beacons are lit_

By next morning Aema was rounding the corner into the golden hall when she heard the doors burst open and with a voice short of breath Aragorn hurried passed her and called;

'The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid.'

Aema froze and the silence in the room was almost tangible as all eyes fell on Théoden King. All in the room anticipating his answer;

'And Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohirrim.'

His response was followed by an instant bustle of activity. All knew there were no time to be wasted. As the King and his nephew among others made it for the doors, Éomer eyed Aema as he passed and she hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should stay or follow. As the doors closed behind them she went after. The ringing of the bells called upon all men and drowned the current conversation Théoden held as she crossed the top of the stairs without pausing. She caught up with Éomer in the court yard, heading for the stables with swift steps. She had to run to keep up with him and when he noticed her by his side he slowed his steps somewhat;

'I must ride out. There are men still scattered, I must find them.' They made it into the stables.

'Éomer,' was all she could say. He stopped and turned to her.

'The King and his men will ride for Dunharrow. Many will follow. Ride with them.'

Aema's wide eyes were filled with fear and concern as she simply nodded in response. He laid a hand on her cheek lovingly and softened his voice;

'Do not fear my love. I will come also. In two days time I will see you there. It is the time for courage, find it within. Your people need you.' He leaned his forehead to hers as he whispered;

'I need you, stay strong min'litha!'

She caressed him as she whispered;

'I shall see you at Dunharrow then. I will be counting the moments until you arrive.'

With that she backed away for a few steps before turning around and walking out. Éomer watched her go, she did not turn around and somehow he knew the fear she had let show was gone from her eyes. No one else would be allowed a glimpse of it. His gaze lingered on her back for only a short moment before he readied to set out.

Aema had quickly gathered her belongings and sent word for Malíec to ready the Romen men for departure. When Gandalf had left for Gondor, her and the Commander had in private decided to stand ready for a swift leave if necessary. The stable yard was crowded with riders and as she was handed Ar's reins she heard Éomer's voice carry over the flurrying crowd;

'_Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan. Oaths you have taken. Now fulfill them all, to Lord and Land!' _and with that the thundering of hooves rose and he was gone.

Aema mounted Ar and spotted Éowyn not far from her. Éowyn seemed in deep conversation with Aragorn and as he rode off she noticed the lady of Rohan's eyes lingering on the black clad man. She rode up with the intention of finding company and comfort in the lady during their journey to Dunharrow, an idea that was welcomed by her friend. When the caravan of riders, led by the Rohirric soldiers, slowly made its way down the hill, Aema found that Malíec had indeed prepared the Roman men who smoothly fell in beside them.

'The men seem weary.' Aema said to Éowyn.

'Yes, they are riding to battle, few will return.' She fell silent momentarily. 'Lord Aragorn is particularly burdened.'

'Has he spoken to you?' Aema said.

'No, he will not bare his heart to me.' Aema caught the hint of bitterness in her friend's voice.

'Pardon me Éowyn if I pry, but you care for him, do you not?' Éowyn looked away as she was contemplating her answer;

'I do.' She simply stated with a resigned smile. 'And though I know his heart lay elsewhere, I cannot help but think he left a small path open. Do you know her, the elven lady that holds his affections?' Éowyn looked at Aema with insistency.

'I know of her though I have never been honored to meet her.' She felt slightly uncomfortable discussing such private matters of someone else. Éowyn did not speak but her eyes made it clear her answer had not been satisfactory.

'Éowyn, I do not know his mind or intention. What I do know is that he has loved her longer than you and I have walked this earth. He's grieving her absence. But I also see he cares for you. However, I do not think it appropriate to discuss this further. A man's mind is his own to share, none shall delve in it.'

'Of course.' Éowyn replied and Aema watched her mind work around the facts she had just been presented with. Perhaps her friend did not know how old Aragorn was? He seemed a man in his prime but Aema had seen him so for her whole life and knew more years lay behind him than his countenance showed.

They had followed the winding path of the river Snowbourn from Edoras into the great White Mountains. After crossing the Harrowdale valley they had climbed the narrow trail to reach the cliff top known as Dunharrow. Like Hornburg it had been a refuge for the people of Rohan for centuries. Shadowed beneath Starkhorn it offered a splendid view of the valley. A splendor dulled by the shadow from the south. By the second day Éomer had come, so had other marshals, bringing all the men they had found. An army of six thousand was now gathered and preparing for war. Aema was approached by Éomer outside her own tent;

'Your Highness, we shall hold council and the presence of the Romen ruler is required.' He gave her a court bow.

'Yes of course. If Théoden King do not object I shall ask Royal Marshal Malíec to attend in my stead since he will be Commanding the Romen forces, not I.' Éomer looked at her with anticipation.

'I shall remain here, or perhaps return to Edoras. I will not follow the men into battle for I believe my place is elsewhere.' The relief she could read on his face disturbed her more than she let on.

'Your Highness…'

'Kindly give my regards to your King and I shall send for my Commander.'

'Of course, Your Highness.' Éomer said with a bow before turning around and leaving.

So the day was spent preparing. Aema was restless, occupying her time with offering her soldiers words of encouragement. Words she found herself doubting, but she kept on nonetheless. None had anything to hold on to but hope, and she clung to it with all her might. The men were failing, their gloom was apparent and never had she thought she would have to send them to meet their destiny in this manner.

The day turned into evening and even the evening was almost passed when Aema and Aragorn met in the midst of the camp. She noticed he was carrying belongings, as if he was about to depart;

'Aragorn, what is the meaning of this?' she looked at the saddle bags in his hands. His eyes told of suffering.

'Aragorn, what bothers you?'

'Arwen is dying.'

'You told of her leaving.'

'Aye, I was mistaken. Lord Elrond has come, bringing news of her faring. She turned back when others sailed.'

'She stayed for you…' Aema said and Aragorn only looked at her in reply.

'The shadow of Mordor is claiming her life as we speak. Shall we not ride to victory, her life will be lost.' he said.

'Hers and many others. I ask you again however, are you leaving?' once more she let her eyes rest on the saddle bags in his arms.

'I must take the path of the dead,' Aema gasped. 'Fear not, my lady, I shall come for Gondor, I will reclaim my kingdom as was my destiny.'

'Aragorn, I shall remain behind. Though all my thoughts will follow you and the men. You are needed in Gondor.'

'As you are needed here. It eases my burden knowing you will stay.' He touched her cheek and she leaned in and kissed his and so he left her. She watched him go, uncertain if they were ever to see each other again. She blinked away the tears that were welling up and felt how the battle crept nearer. What prize would they pay, how many lives would be undone. She dared not think of it.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

_One night of passion _

When evening had turned into early night and stars were studding the sky above the deceivingly peaceful valley, Aema found Éowyn by the edge of the cliff looking out over the vast camp. Clear traces of tears on her face, jaws clenched from anger;

'Éowyn, you seem distressed.'

'I was foolish believing that a man like Lord Aragorn would find pleasure in me.'

'He has spoken to you?' Éowyn chuckled.

'Indeed. I am a fool.'

'No. I do not know if what I am about to tell will ease your pain or only enhance it…' Aema paused. 'He told me Lord Elrond had come with word from Arwen.' This increased Éowyn's attention. 'She is still among us.' Tears glistened in her friends eyes but she said nothing.

'Éowyn, he cares for you deeply, of this I am certain.'

'But she holds his heart.' Éowyn bowed her head at her own words and Aema took her hand and held it firmly.

'A heart is fragile, and though easily broken time will mend it. A small comfort on this day but true nonetheless.'

Éowyn shot her a grateful glance before they fell silent for awhile. Her friend eventually broke the silence;

'Before long we shall be grateful for any heart that still beats, broken or not.' She looked out over the valley;

'The world offers such beauty, yet all that is left is despair.'

'Éowyn, you must not loose hope.'

'My uncle has laid the duty to rule in his stead upon me. Once again I shall be left behind.'

'An honorable duty indeed.' Éowyn sniffed and looked away.

'You speak of hope, yet the King is appointing his heir and the men in the camp are saying their farewells. They are riding to their deaths Aema, and when they're gone how do you expect to stand fast?'

With that her friend swiftly turned and left with determination in her steps.

Aema fought the overwhelming feeling of loss that came at her friends words. She had clung to hope so fiercely but she was starting to loose her grip. Taking in the sad, yet determined faces of the soldiers within her view, she realized the truth behind Éowyn's words. The immense feeling of defeat was excruciating and her breath caught at she picked up her skirts and ran through the camp, ignoring the looks she was receiving and sidestepping rather than stopping for obstacles along the way.

Éomer's tent came into view and she finally slowed her steps. Waiting until she knew she was unseen she snuck up, lifted the tent flap and stepped inside. Éomer was sitting on his cot, clad only in breeches. The flame of the oil lamps flickered from the gust of wind following her entrance. Upon her sudden appearance he stood up;

'Aema!' He saw the look of desperation upon her face.

'By sunrise you ride to war. The men do not expect to return.'

'Aema..' he repeated with weary voice.

'I know about losses due to war, but never have I laid eyes on such hopelessness written on men's faces.'

'Min'Litha, do not falter now.'

'Éomer tell me, how am I to keep living if none is to return?' her voice was aggravated. He walked up to her and put his hands on her upper arms and squeezed them gently. Bowing down slightly to meet her eyes he locked his gaze with hers;

'Tell me you will return.' Aema whispered.

'I will not give a word I may possibly break.' Tears found their way over the edge of her eyelashes. 'You must not give in. If I was not to return, know that my heart will be with you until the very end. My last thought shall be of your smile and know I shall go, having found my hearts desire in life. Do not let the glow of my light go out in the darkest of hours. Let it burn for me if darkness is to consume me.'

'Éomer do not dare say farewell to me.' She sobbed and he cupped her face in his hand and leaned in and kissed her. She soon broke their kiss and leaned her cheek to his chest while he embraced her. Her hand was softly placed atop his bare chest. His hair felt rough under her delicate fingers. Listening to his hearts every beat and his voice softly hushing her the tears finally subsided.

After a while Aema looked up at him. Her hand was trembling as she carefully stroke away a stray strand of hair from his face. His muscles tensed by her touch and in his eyes she saw a fire that she could only assume stemmed from the same burning desire that was raging within her. Her breath caught under his intense gaze and with the slightest movement she inched her lips closer to his until he caught her in his passion. His lips greedily sought her response and she answered with a desperation, as if she was trying to drink him in, burn his taste to her lips. Her hands were exploring his bare upper body. Feeling his muscles move in unison with her hands. His body was hard yet his skin warm and soft to the touch. His hands held her in a tight grasp, she was not sure she could get loose even had she wanted to. She made no attempt, instead she pressed her body against his, trying to eliminate any space between them. Éomer suddenly let go of her as if he had burned himself. With voice harsh from ragged breathing he said;

'Aema, I am utterly sorry.' She stepped towards him but he backed away, holding up a hand as a sign for her to stop. 'Aema please. You ask too much of me.'

'What is it that you think I ask of you?'

'I am but a man, I do not think I could restrain myself for much longer. I ask you, do not torment me in this way.' His eyes were pleading and it made her smile.

'Do you believe I am simply teasing you to the brink of madness?' He looked confused and she continued; 'No my love, I will not send you off as a madman.' She stepped closer and Éomer straightened, staring at her. He did no move to stop her. As she stepped closer she untied the top of her dress. Éomer's eyes widened and finally he spoke;

'Aema I cannot.' She placed a finger over his lips and hushed him.

'What is it that you cannot?'

'I cannot, I will not disgrace you.'

'Disgrace me? Éomer love,' she stroked his cheek, 'You could never disgrace me. I have given you my heart for it is mine to give. As is my body. Shall death part us I want to face it as yours and yours completely. Therefore I ask of you; claim me. Make me yours, for I will never be anothers.'

She let her dress fall from her shoulders and stood exposed in front of him;

'I am yours Éomer.' She whispered.

Encouraged by her words Éomer raised his hands and rested them on her shoulders. Letting his eyes wander over her naked body he soaked in the sight of her. His hands slowly slid down her back, causing her to tremble, and he pulled her closer and enclosed her in his arms. Letting go of any previous constriction he kissed her as he had not kissed her before and she eagerly complied. He lifted her up in his arms only to kneel and carefully place her on the pelt covering the ground. With his hand gently placed under her head to protect it from the hard ground underneath he placed his body atop hers without ever letting go of her lips. Aema wrapped her arms around him as he feverishly explored her body.

She moaned as his calloused hands stroke her soft skin. A faint gasp escaped Éomer as he cupped her modest breast in his comparably large hand. Aema shivered under his touch and she whispered, pleaded his name. Éomer's hand wandered down. Slowly he stroke passed her ribcage, down her waist. His thumb circling her navel. As his hand reached the curls beneath her waist Aema arched her back out of pleasure and anticipation. Éomer's trembles drove Aema to the brink. This strong, unyielding warrior in her arms wanted her, his whole demeanor spoke of it and she was very much affected by it. All her blood rushed to her lower abdomen and as his thumb pressed against the center point Aema let out a shrill moan and pulled herself up against him.

"_My love, are you certain?" _Éomer whispered hoarsely, close to her ear.

"_Yes, Éomer, yes!" _was all she could muster.

He placed her back down on her back and straightened up. Aema missed his body heat the same second it left her. He was slow, deliberate as he kept stroking her heated center beneath his thumb her body reacting to each touch. She looked up at him. He was studying her. Gazing at her face, her body. He seemed so determined. So serious. She could make out his jaw muscles clenching. His upper body was glistening with sweat. The thought of Éomer having to control himself to the point of sweating had her biting her lip. She pushed her head back and arched her lower back in an attempt to lure him in. Éomer's body heat once more surrounded her as he hungrily searched for her lips and found them. She moaned from pleasure again. His ragged, warm breath against her neck.

She felt him between her legs, hard, pulsing he search to enter. Her body's warm sweetness ready to welcome him. He paused once more, as if offering her a way out but she pressed her body against his to show him she was ready. Slowly he found his way into her. A blazing pain shot through her body. Her eyes flung open and she gasped as her body stiffened from the shock. She met his eyes, they were close to hers, watching her. Concern behind the veil of desire. He lay still for the moment, giving her body a chance to adjust to him. His hand stroke her cheek, her hair.

"_I am sorry my love." _he whispered. "_I am sorry."_

Aema gave him a quivering smile while brushing her fingers over his lips and hushing him. Slowly he pushed himself deeper within her. The pain lessened but Aema was still watching him with big eyes. The sensation of him inside was new to her, they were connected in the most profound way. He just as slowly pulled himself back outward, and then pushed back in.. With much care he started to move at a regular pace.

Soon she had settled in this new feeling, the pain subsided and she relaxed. Éomer's whole body trembled in her arms, he breathed with difficulty. Aema then felt the warmth return to her body. Her desire was re-woken from his obvious struggle to constrain himself. She murmured his name into his neck, grabbing hold of his tense shoulders. Feeling his muscles move under her fingertips. He pulled out. The fullness of him left her and she gasped at the feeling of emptiness. His eyes met hers:  
"_My love, I want this to last forever. I am not quite done with you just yet." he whispered. _

He kissed her, kissed her neck then let his lips trace her chest. Her breath caught. He cupped her breast and kissed his way up the side until he let his lips envelop her nipple. He kissed it, licked it and sucked on it as the pleasure spread throughout Aema's body. She felt as if she was on fire. Her every limb tingling from his touch. Her chest heaving with unsteady breaths. He let his lips wander downward over her body. His lips felt hot against her skin. He kissed her hips and Aema started feeling anxious as to where he was going with this. He must have noticed for he hushed her and while kissing her inner thigh he whispered to her:  
"_My love, let me. I need to taste you,let me feel every part of you." _

As she let her head fall back she welcomed him. His tongue explored the warm, wet creases between her legs. Aema had never sensed anything like it. She was utterly defenseless to his touch. He licked the skin, kissed it. Working his way to the middle. She moaned and writhed under his playful nibbling. Her body trying to position itself so he would find it but he evaded. Aema moaned again out of frustration. He paused for a short moment. Aema trembling with anticipation. Then he gave in. His tongue found the point she had silently begged him to find and a loud gasp escaped her as her back arched towards him. He flicked his tongue fast and she felt her hips quiver. Pleasure overwhelming her in waves every time his warm, wet mouth touched her. Then he let his mouth envelop her most sensitive spot and he sucked on it. Sucked on it while letting his teeth nudge it and Aema lost control. She cried out in surprise. Her body convulsing violently and she could do nothing to curb it. It was as if lighting struck her and she could no longer breathe. Her mind was soon clouded with pleasure. The only thing in the world was Éomer's lips. His lips were a weapon and she was pierced upon it. She was sure death was upon her, it was only a matter of time before he would have her body melt in his very arms. As her tension subsided, he eased on her. He went from sucking to licking to kissing the burning point of her. For every move he made her body responded. She regained some of her breathing. The convulsions eased. Overwhelmed by this new sensation she whimpered his name. A tear found its way down her face and Éomer was soon there to kiss it away, she panted in his arms as he stroke her hair and kissed her face to let her find her way back to him. As her body grew limp beneath him she finally opened her eyes to find his.

"_Èomer.." _she whispered.

He smiled. A victorious smile, she thought. As if he was a victorious conqueror and she smiled back at him for conquered he had.

"_Now my love." _he said in a low voice _"Now you are ready."_

And so the night went by. Nothing in the world could come between them. The thoughts of the darkness ahead had left their minds as had any pain and the world held nothing but their love for one another.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

_The last battle_

As the first gleaming sliver of morning grazed the horizon and brought an end to the night, the men of Rohan and Romen broke camp. Aema had said a tearful farewell to Éomer and returned to her own tent before the camp came to life. Though some had eyed her as she crossed the camp ground, none had bother to pay her much mind. She spent the time leading up to the men's departure with her Commander agreeing on how to act depending on the eventualities. She would remain at Dunharrow for now. Would she not receive word within a fortnight she was to return to Edoras. There she would remain until the passing of a full moon before bringing the people back to Romen. None knew what awaited them there though all hoped it stood unscathed. If fortune was with them and she would receive word of victory, she was to make it for Minas Tirith with haste. She had put the fate of her men in Malíec's hands and had not interfered with their battle plans for she trusted him to make the right decisions. They too said farewell, in a much less formal manner than they usually conducted. It was a farewell between friends, family even for they had shared much. And so the vast army began to move out. As Aema stood and watched the riders steer their horses southward one solider not far from her caught her eye. He was readying to mount as a blonde lock of hair told her who this soldier really was. Aema hurried up to where the soldier stood and hissed;

'Éowyn!'

Startled her friend turned around and so confirmed her suspicions.

'Éowyn what is the meaning of this?'

'I will ride to battle.' Éowyn's voice was defiant.

'You cannot ride to battle, you have your orders, do you defy your King?'

'I defy only the evil of Mordor. My King asked me to rule in his stead and so I ask you Queen, if we do not stand victorious in the wake of this battle, what of Rohan will stand left to reign? Shall we not ride to triumph, we are forsaken. I cannot idly sit by and await victory. I shall fight to my death to seek it.'

'Do you despise me then? For idly biding my time far from battle? Do you think me less?'

'Nay. We all must do what we deem right. I judge you not and ask of you the same.'

'Éowyn, please do not do this. If all will be lost, let this not be the day I loose you.' Éowyn gave her a faint smile before mounting. 'Dearest friend,' she said from horseback. 'If I stand to be lost, it matters not what day I meet my demise. Shall it come in midst of battle, know I sought it. Know I will bring no shame into what lays beyond.' They locked eyes once more before she spurred her horse into a gallop and was gone.

The white city of Minas Tirith was overlooking the battle of Pelennor Fields. Holes in the great wall hollowly gaping where the blows of the enemy's catapults had struck. Enormous pieces of it lay scattered below as the power of the collision had thrown them out, causing devastation to land and men. The ground moved like waves of thick mud under the force of thousands upon thousands of horses, and the armies of both allies and enemy spread further than the eyes of a man could see. It seemed they had fought for a lifetime, yet Éomer still lusted for more. For each enemy he pierced, for each last, staggering breath he heard, whether it be friend or foes he thirsted for more. Each orc that laid slain meant one less between him and victory, each man meant cause for vengeance.

His blade swung through the air and slashed through the neck of an orc on the ground. His back to the raider as he was cornering one of Éomer's men to a block of stone. The blood spurted, specks of it blending with the sweat on Firefoot's flank. He spurred the steed forward and aimed for a small company of ugly creatures. As their attention turned to him they positioned themselves for defense. Hurdling together and shielding themselves to his blow. Firefoot crashed right into the handful of orcs. Defenseless to the sudden impact and weight of the horse, three fell instantly. The fourth was hit by Firefoot's hoof and Éomer determinedly slashed his sword down on the last one. The blade crashed through the skull of the bare, monstrous head with ease and clove it in two. The sight did not become him since it seemed he had seen nothing else but the guts and insides of orcs since he arrived here. The fallen made it harder to fight from horseback. Éomer thought as many must lay fallen as were still standing for the ground was nearly covered. The horses wanted not to step on the dead and this lessened both their freedom of movement as well as their reliability. A rider and his horse must work as one, as the horses focus was disturbed by this, the rider could not always know when or how his horse was going to move. For the Rohirrim, this imposed no greater threat on their warfare, yet one instant of disturbed focus could mean death. The fighting continued as the men grew weary. If the enemy's numbers seemed to dwindle, as did theirs. Éomer felt a sense of lost control. He knew not how long he had been fighting, neither was he offered a good chance of an estimation of the battle. He could do nothing but keep fighting and hope their efforts were not in vein. Of his friend Lord Aragorn he had seen nothing since they parted at Dunharrow. Anger welled in his heart. Aragorn, like all before him had not returned from the mountain of the dead and Éomer feared he would never see him again. Yet faith still lingered, for he knew his friend would not abandon them in this hour. He would yet come. It was then he heard the shrieking that turned his blood to ice. From the dark sky a black beast descended carrying the enemy's supremacy, the Witch King of Angmar, Lord of the Nazgûl. Éomer could not cover the great distance that lay between him and the beast in time and he called out for fortune to keep his men out of the dark lord's way. For the first time he allowed fear to seize his heart. A fellow rider called for him;  
_'My lord, what are your orders?_' Éomer had no answer for the man but cried;

'_We are outnumbered. DEATH! RIDE! RIDE FOR RUIN AND FOR WORLDS ENDING!' _All men that heard joined in his cry;

'_DEATH!' _they bellowed, '_DEATH!_'

He had fought many an orc but never had he been faced with such forces that were now unleashed. Once more he mustered the courage within him and he charged across the field, slaying orcs when not simply evading them. Firefoot steadily carried him closer. He lifted his eyes and at the sight that met him he reined his horse in. It was an army he had never before laid eyes on. They swept over the battlefield from the south as if floating on air, breathing death upon the enemy as they went. Like a tidal wave they drowned the field and soon flushed through the city gate to simply sweep all levels of foes. It was the army of the dead, as horrific as it seemed, they were the salvation of men in that hour.

Éomer dismounted Firefoot by the slain corpse of the dragon like beast that had served as the Nazgûl's mount. Its head lay severed away from its body and the foul stench of the creature had him fighting the urge to heave. He kept walking as he spotted Gamling approaching.

'Gamling, my friend. What relief the sight of you brings me!' He noticed however that his fellow man's face was grim and shadowed.

'My Lord.'

'What news do you bring?' Éomer's voice was commanding.

'Speak!'

'My Lord, Théoden King…'

'What of him? Where can I find him?' Gamling looked over his shoulder and as Éomer followed his gaze he saw the King's horse laying dead on its side. His heart grew cold as he eyed Gamling before determinedly walking over to the fallen horse. He was unprepared for the sight that met him.

The King had fallen and lay dead beneath his steed. Éomer whispered;

'_No.' _ and kneeled next to his uncle. He took the dead man's hand in his and kissed it as sorrow filled his heart. Gamling's firm hand on his shoulder offered him no comfort. He stood.

'His knights shall carry him to the city with honor, bring also others fallen and let not the battle trample them.'

'Aye, Éomer King.'

Éomer eyed him at his words and met Gamling's questioning eyes. He sought confirmation and Éomer could do nothing other than grant it. His uncle had appointed him as heir of the throne, should he survive. He lived and now found himself king of a fallen people. Weariness overwhelmed him and he once more looked at his uncle before again turning to the battle field. So many dead. He looked over the fallen. They all were his brothers, his men, his kin. A deep gasp was heard from him as he froze in his movements. Horror seeping from each line of his face. In front of him on the ground, pale and lifeless lay Éowyn. At first his cry was soundless until he fell onto his knees beside her and overwhelmed by grief his cry of agony rose. He lifted her worn and limp body into his arms and cradled her and in that very moment he could feel his heart breaking. Never had war claimed a greater prize. He had been willing to give his own life to spare hers, yet somehow she laid lifeless while he still breathed. Suffering the loss of the last of his blood, he cried out his anguish to the sky and stroke her face with a shaking hand, saying her name time and again though her eyes remained closed and the barely remaining trace of tint on her cheek faded for each passing moment.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

_Minas Tirith_

The word of victory had reached the hold of Dunharrow and Aema had been anxious to ride out. The victory had been seven nights passed when word came and yet days of riding had laid before them. She knew Éomer was alive only because the currier himself had laid eyes upon him and her heart had rejoiced when he told her so. Of Éowyn or others she knew nothing as of yet.

The devastation was evident as the company climbed each level of Minas Tirith. Though she had never before seen the city, its former glory radiated through the destruction and scattered debris. As most of the riding company stayed behind on a lower level she kept climbing with only a few followers. As she reached the stable yard of the sixth level she was not greeted with ceremony, neither did she expect it in the aftermath of war. There was but one awaiting her arrival. Hurriedly she handed Ar's reins over to the attendant. Tugging her gloves off she walked up to the old man patiently leaning on his staff;

'Master Gandalf. It is a joy to lay eyes upon you once more.' She inclined her head in respect for the wizard.

'You shall be welcome to Minas Tirith, child.' He said with a smile. 'Come, let us speak of matters in a more secluded place.' She followed him in silence to the seventh and last level of the city. There he took her to a small garden, overlooking the edge of the vast field below. They were seated under a shadowing tree and Aema spoke;

'I know not much of the events past the battle. I merely received word of victory four nights ago and have been journeying since. Tell me Master Gandalf, where do we find ourselves now?'

Then Gandalf began reciting the events of the days passed. It was now Aema heard of the black gates, the madness of Denethor, the slaying of the Witch King and the recovery of Éowyn, the ring bearer and the others.

The sun had traveled far across the sky when Aema finally asked Gandalf;

'What of Lord Éomer then? He was with you at the black gate? Did he also return with you?'

'Indeed, Éomer King is sound, awaiting your arrival in the halls of the citadel I am sure.'

Aema's eyes widened;

'King?' she almost whispered.

'Aye, I am regretting having to bring you the news of Théoden's passing. An honorable man he was, and an honorable death he faced.' Gandalf knew more of Aema's presumable thoughts than he let show and was regarding the queen as the news settled in her mind. She spoke at length;

'It it grievous news you bring indeed. Yet I am grateful for all the lives spared. Tell me on more thing, The Royal Marshal of Romen, Commander Malíec. I have not received word of him.'

'Your Commander is sound. He led the Romen men to valor. As of his whereabouts this day, I do not know but he is to be found within the city.'

Though relieved of her friend's well being, she was struggling with the turmoil within and Gandalf thought it best to leave her in solitude. He bid her farewell and left her to her thoughts.

Letting out a long, shaking breath it seemed she had been holding in for a long time she rested her head in the palms of her hands. She had well known that with Théodred's passing Éomer was next in line for the throne of Rohan. Indeed she had known, but in her naivety and irresponsible infatuation she had chosen to ignore the future all had thought uncertain. Unable to focus on the faring of the world she was consumed with sadness. She, the Queen of Roman had fallen in love with a man, who's sole responsibility now lay with his people. On this day, a day of joyous victory, Aema's heart broke in two. The happiness she had denied herself for so long had been so close she had touched it before it shattered and turned into dust. They had their duties, duties that did not pay heed to a heart's desire. As a queen she still rejoiced in the departing shadow, but as a women she grieved the loss of her love. And in this moment, shadowed by a tree, in a garden of the proud city of Minas Tirith, Aema was merely a woman.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

_Two lovers meet again_

Aema gathered herself before making her way into the citadel. There she was shown to her rooms and left unattended to make herself at home. Placing her gloves atop the dresser she let her eyes wander over the room. Her trunks stood untouched by the end of the bed. She considered doing something about her packed belongings but instead her gaze drifted out the window watching the people down on the street below. So she stood until a brisk knock on the door brought her out of her contemplation. She called for whoever it was to enter whereas the door opened and Éomer emerged. She regarded his appearance, it seemed he had aged since they parted. He seemed burdened to the brink of breaking and concern was evident on his weary face. He carefully closed the door behind him and regarded her;

'Gandalf brought word of your arrival.' Aema could not hold his gaze, believing her thoughts would show. He closed the distance between them in only a few strides. Suddenly finding herself staring into his chest she still did not face him. Placing a hand underneath her chin he forced her to;

'I dared not hope I would ever hold you in my arms again. The departing shadow brings my light.' He looked into her eyes, searching for something and hesitantly placed a soft kiss on her lips. The comfort of being close to him once more, tasting his lips, was more than Aema could bare. A sob escaped her and Éomer pulled away, again searching her eyes.

'My love, do not weep. Put your worries aside, it is over.' He smiled at her and Aema crept into his embrace;

'Fear took me Éomer. The eves of Dunharrow were dark as the shadow of Mordor touched my heart. Knowing you were far from were I was. Not knowing if we would ever be close again.' She could not bring herself to speak of her thoughts of their future, she would find another time. Éomer placed his chin atop her head and rocked her slowly in his arms;

'Hush, min'litha. I say to you, it is over. Never shall darkness reach you again.' She hid her face in his chest and savored the feeling of his body against hers.

Behind the clouds the sun was climbing to its midpoint as Aema entered a chamber in the houses of healing. On the bed Éowyn lay pale with her arm wrapped in cloth. Upon seeing her friend emerging she smiled. Aema walked up to her and took her uninjured hand in hers;

'I am glad to see you regaining some of your strength.'

Éowyn still smiled while answering;

'Well I am glad you see it so for I certainly do not feel much strength as of now.'

Aema placed herself on the chair next to the bed.

'I was told of your bravery.' She received no answer from the woman on the bed. 'I want to ask your forgiveness for doubting you.'

'You did not doubt me.'

'I did not know such was your destiny. Though I always knew you were destined for greatness I could not have foreseen this. You have found valor and you are still with us, fortune shone its light on you my friend. It saddens me that I could not carry my share in this. A shame that shall linger in my heart for all my days.'

'Aema, do not belittle yourself in such ways. You may not face your destiny in battle but you have lived your share of trials and faced them all with grace and composure.'

'Your trials are certainly no less than mine for you were left behind at a much younger age.' Aema said to Éowyn.

'Aye, but I had others to take my parents place.' Éowyn's eyes shadowed at her words.

'Éowyn, you do not have to share your honor with me. Rejoice in your valor and I shall rejoice with you. I know your hour is darkened by the passing of your uncle. I received the news with great grief. He was great man.'

Éowyn smiled and grasped her hand.

'Let us not grieve the fallen but delight in our triumph and those who live.'

Aema smiled faintly, her heart aching.

'What troubles you?'

'Ah, let us not speak of it, we shall do as you say and delight in our victory.'

'Aema?'

Aema did not answer, she rose and walked up to the window turning her back to her friend.

'Have you spoken to my brother?'

'I have.' Aema knew where this was going. Éowyn was perceptive and certainly she had considered the predicament Aema was in.

'Pardon me if I speak of matters that does not concern me, but I have not failed to notice the fondness you share for one another.' Aema's head slumped but she gave no reply.

'Éomer loves you Aema. You know that, do you not?'

'I do.'

'That has not changed.'

'I know.'

'You have brought joy into my brother's life, for that I'm ever grateful to you, I ask you, do not yield to his crown. He asked not to receive it, but the burden is yet his to bare. I assume you are able to empathize with him.'

Aema turned to her friend.

'Éowyn. Your brother has brought me a joy I had not imagined possible. Though I do not wish to speak of this much further I will say to you, it is not his crown to which I'm yielding but his crowning brings new matters to consider. Please, will you not mention this to anyone. I shall speak to him when the time is right.'

'Of course. Just know that all is aware of the sacrifices you both have made in the past. I do not believe anyone would wish to deny you happiness. No matter what obstacles it is that may arise, you two will find your way, such is love Aema. It conquers all.' Aema fought the tears that were welling up and she bowed down to place a kiss on her friend's forehead. As she stroke Éowyn's hair she prepared to leave;

'You need rest. I shall go and let you seek it so you can regain your strength fully. We shall speak again.' And with that she left the houses of healing and made it back to the citadel.

The afternoon was filled with cheerful reunions. The relief of seeing her commander again had overwhelmed her somewhat. She had not realized how much she feared for him until laying eyes on him again. Stubborn as he may be, he was her highly valued companion and friend, and had been throughout her life. The halflings were there also. Merry and her especially shared a moment of rejoice of seeing each other again. She had the enormous honor of being introduced by Aragorn to the ring-bearer and his companion. Aema took Frodo's hand in hers;

'Mr. Baggins. It is an immense honor to meet the one who's bravery saw to our freedom. On behalf of the people of Roman and I dare say, all of Middle Earth I offer you my humble gratitude.' She curtsied to him and the hobbit's cheeks spotted with rosy tint. His great big eyes looking shyly at her as he said in a soft voice 'I am Frodo, Your Highness.'

'And you, Samwise Gamgee.' She turned to his companion. 'I understand that your bravery is no less than Mr. Frodo's. You too is worthy of Middle Earth's gratitude and you most certainly have mine.' She curtsied to him also. He too seemed almost embarrassed by the attention as he stammered;

'Well, thank you Your Highness. One simple does what one must.'

She smiled at him;

'That my friend, is courage.'

The crowd was settling in the courtyard and people were forming smaller groups where lively conversation were taking place. Mostly of course about the bravery of all who had fought in battle and beyond. Aema found herself by the wall overlooking Pelennor Fields. The wind was strong up there but she did not mind as she let it whisk her cheeks.

'I cannot believe my luck finding you here unoccupied.' It was Éomer's voice close behind her. She turned around to meet his smile.

'Say, what is it you are thinking about?'

'Oh, I was just pausing.' She turned back to look over the wall and he came to stand beside her;

'After supper, perhaps you would care to ride with me?'

She desperately wanted to, yet she knew she would surrender to him given the opportunity. She had to stay strong and parted from him;

'I thank you for your invitation though unfortunately I cannot accept. Now if you pardon me I must prepare to receive reports of the battle.' Without even looking at him, she walked away as quick as she could without seeming at haste. Left behind stood Éomer watching her go. Confused as to why she was acting in this manner. A frustration was building up within him and no matter how he tried it seemed she slipped though his fingers any time he had the opportunity to speak to her.

Aema sighed heavily;

'Out of five hundred men, you are telling merely half has returned.' She looked at Commander Malíec who stood leaning on the table of the small sitting room in the citadel.

'Aye Your Highness.'

'I sent our men to their deaths and now I'm left with facing their widows, mothers and children. Though the battle might be over, it has not even begun for them.'

'They all chose to ride to war, your highness. But as we knew, they were no warriors. The forces unleashed upon us were unlike any of us could have imagined. Most lost their lives at Pelennor Fields and out of those who rode under the banner of the new king to the black gates of Mordor, none returned.'

Aema rested her face in her hands for a moment. Taking in the magnitude of her commander's reports.

'We shall honor them upon our arrival back in Romen. However, ceremony is of small matter. How shall Romen ever recover from this? We have a long and strenuous road ahead. How are we supposed to build our land anew? She did not expect an answer and Malíec provided none.

She sighed once more;

'It is an act of fortune that you are here my friend. I will need you in coming days as I have always needed you.'

'Of course Your Highness and I am as ever devoted.'


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

_Duty is a heavy burden_

Aema had decided to stay in the city to attend the crowning of the new king. She settled in her lovely rooms and expected to stay for at least a full moons passing before returning to Edoras. It was almost eve of the forth day since her arrival. Much of her time she spent by her friend's bedside for she knew how tedious it could be being tied to a bed in that matter. Especially for someone so lively as Éowyn. Trying to lighten her friend's mood she'd read books to her when they did not speak of all things they could think of. Other times were spent in her room resting. Simply letting the worries of before seep away for each day passing. She wished to return to her people with a less weary soul. She was actively avoiding Éomer. On the few occasions they had met she could not stand fast against him for she loved him too much. She had to find a time to speak to him for she feared her behavior would come to hurt him, did she not make him see her reasons. She thought he had noticed for she had politely declined more than one invitation to spend time with him away from others and he had not come to her chambers as he had that first night. This night Aragorn was giving a feast in the citadel hall and her presence was expected. It would not be some big formal affair but yet, she would spend the evening with Éomer, this she knew and for each moment in his presence, the thought of her coming declaration became harder to endure.

Sighing to herself she washed the day off her and dressed herself in a gown of lightest blue. Letting her hair hang loosely down her back she braided but two small strands away from her face and fastened them with a pin. Atop her head she placed her modest circlet with the white pendant dangling down on her forehead. She looked in the mirror and attempted to smile at her image. She must not let her aching heart reveal itself this night.

All through the feast she sat next to Éomer, he was acting most polite and anyone but her would have had nothing to note in his behavior. Aema however felt as if winter lay between them. His straight back, his very general topics of conversation such as the weather and how Gondorian meals differed from what he was used to, but mostly the lack of eye contact between them told her something had changed. Fear clasped her heart that he too had come to the same realization as her. Was he too thinking that their duties must take precedence. She was starting to regret her decision to not speak with him sooner. Was this how he was going to leave things? Simply just moving on, retreating to politeness and pleasantries. Trying to ignore the feverish burn within, she indulged in conversation with others around the table, though sorrow shadowed her mind. When the meal was over and the people scattered around the hall enjoying refreshments and entertainment Aema wandered outside to catch some air. Walking out onto the balcony she closed her eyes and let the frisky winds cool her face. Opening them again she spotted him. Éomer stood with his back to her, leaning on his arms that were resting on the stone wall-railing. He looked tensed.

'I am sorry, I did not mean to disturb, I only sought some air.' she said but he did not answer. She walked up to him and he turned and stared at her, eyes blazing with anger;

'My sister rode to war.'

'Yes, but Éomer, she is recovering. There is no need for your worry now.' As if he hadn't heard her he continued;

'My sister rode to war. None caught this madness of hers, not my men... not I.."

'There were over six thousand men riding out. Expecting to pick her out from the rest is expecting to find a drop in the lake.'

'When I found her, I thought her dead.' Aema placed a comforting hand on his arms but he looked away.

'Éomer…'

'This has haunted me ever since.' he paused. 'Then I learn you spoke to her.'

Aema withdrew her hand, starting to understand that his anger was aimed at her.

'Yes, I spoke to her.' She said calmly. 'I spoke to her as she was about to depart Dunharrow.'

'_You knew of this madness!'_ Éomer hissed. Aema kept her calm;

'I did, but I say to you, I could not stop her. This I know, for I tried.'

'Why did you not send word? Why did you stand idly stand by? Have you no honor, woman? You let her defy her king without repercussion?' his anger far from lessening and was starting to affect her;

'You had already departed. As you should know, it is not within my power to command the Lady of Rohan. Had it been, I would have, this I hope you know.'

'You were willing to let her ride to her death then?' he growled between clenched teeth and she lost her composure;

'She did not ride to her death. In fact she rode to face her destiny. Did she not slay the Witch King of Angmar? Is she not still with you?' her voice was raised and Éomer said nothing, he simply clutched the railing until his knuckles whitened. She continued; 'I am sorry if I have misjudged you, Éomer King,' she spat his name and title, 'but I believed you a greater man than one who resigns to petty blame! I fully understand your concern for your sister, and know all have suffered in these times, yet you choose to unburden yourself by not seeing things for what they are. Your mind is clouded with grief and weariness and I shall now take my leave and we will not discuss this matter further!'

With a whisking sound she stalked away, leaving him there by the wall to be flushed with waves of guilt as the truth of her words sank into his mind. He was utterly confused. The burden of the crown he accepted with an outward grace and natural ability. Still the turmoil he experienced within he shared with no one. The sight of Aema upon her arrival to the city had brought him more joy than he remembered ever having lived, yet she had turned from him, shying away from his presence. Almost as if she feared him and he knew not what he had done to strike fear into her. He was frustrated for many reasons and just now she had been an easy pray for his temper, forgetting that she held a temper of her own. One to apparently outmatch his, something he was not quite used to. He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He needed to find her again, he needed to make things right. Not yet however, they both needed time to let their emotions settle.

Aema had stormed through the doors but soon evened her pacing to walk up to Aragon as the host of the evening;.

'Aema, what is on your mind? You seem upset?'

'Don't mind me. I am still in need of rest. It has been a very pleasant evening but I shall now retire and I only wanted to bid you a good night.' He kissed her hand.

'Rest easy, Your Highness. And now you have a friend in me, should you need one.'

'I know Aragorn, I have always known. Thank you dearest friend.'

She closed the door of her chamber and placed her circlet on top of the dresser. With a sigh she slumped down onto her bed. Entwining her fingers until her knuckles turned white she fought the tears that burned her eyelids. She knew not for how long she had battled her sadness when someone knocked on the door. She preferred her solitude and therefore did not answer. The knock came again but she held her silence. Then she heard Éomer's voice outside;

'Aema, please let me enter.' He paused and she said nothing but turned away from the door defiantly. She heard him open the door and step inside then closing it behind him.

'Aema.'

'Please take your leave.'

'Aema I must ask your forgiveness. It was not my intention to let my frustration get the better of me in such a way.' She said nothing, still turned away from him.

'Aema please speak to me, I do not know what causes you to withdraw from me?' His voice sounded hurt, something that deeply shook her. Had she taken it thus far, had she done what she least of all wanted, which was to hurt the man she so dearly loved.

'Éomer, please don't.' was all she could get out. She turned to face him, her eyes weary of sadness.

'What has changed? Did I not return to you like you asked me to? Did I in any way hurt you?' he said.

'You never hurt me as I know you never would.'

'Then why do you not seem to find pleasure in my company of late?'

Aema sighed,

'Oh Éomer…'

He joined her on the bed, took her hands in his and insistently held her gaze;

'Tell me, so I may correct whatever I did to do you wrong.'

She pulled away from him, rose and walked up to the window and stood looking out.

'Things have changed,' she said softly. 'You are now king of Rohan.'

'Yes Aema but say why this bothers you.'

'Please understand, it is not your title I find troublesome , it is what your title implies.' She turned to him and watched him from across the room.

'We knew this day would come. Perhaps were we naive, perhaps merely negligent, but I at least deliberately chose not to dwell on it as I know now I should have.'

He rose also, but paused where he stood.

'I do not understand…'

'I got lost in my love for you. The future was so uncertain and duty seemed so far away, I allowed myself to shred my responsibility. A responsibility you now share. Éomer, our duty lies with our people.'

'I will not deny that.' He looked confused as if he still wasn't understanding what she was saying.

'So what future do you see for us?'

The meaning of her words came crashing down upon him and his eyes were now wide open and desperate.

'Aema, why are you saying this?'

'Our future is laid out before us and we cannot share it. For I have to return to my land, and you have to stay in yours. We cannot rule in absence, we cannot abandon our people for lust.'

'_Lust!' _he growled. 'You call what we have simple lust?' he swiftly crossed the floor and grabbed her by her arms in an iron grip;

'You are mine! You gave yourself to me!'

Aema pulled herself free from his grip and backed away while looking up at him with eyes full of sorrow.

'This is madness woman! You have me disgrace you only to turn cold as the winter and toss me aside.' He was loosing control of his temper.

'Do you not love me then?' his voice was forced and Aema could not bring herself to answer, she lowered her eyes to stare at the floor when he finally lost control. His voice cracked;

'For all else you hold dear, answer me!'

When she did not he determinedly left her there. With wide strides he walked out and slammed the door hard behind him.

Aema slowly sank to the floor. She felt as if her heart lay scattered in thousands of pieces around her. She heaved multiple sighs as her chest was to tight to let the flood of tears fall freely. Her heart was shattered as she knew his was. She knew he must feel as if she had ripped his heart out with her bare hands and squeezed it in her fist until it finally broke apart. The pain of hurting him so was too much to bare.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

_Broken_

The days passed by in the city of Minas Tirith although the crowning of the crownless king still lay more than a fortnight ahead. Commander Malíec had been sent back to Edoras to act as a steward during the queen's absence. The queen herself spent most of her time in either her chambers or by her friends side in the houses of healing. The rumors of her difficulty had not spread among the commoners, for they had been kept unknowing of it all, but well between their friends, though none spoke of it. Éomer acted polite in public, as was to be expected but he did not acknowledge her otherwise and she did her best to stay out of his way. A young king and a young queen, trying to deal with the grief of broken heart all while doing so under the watchful eyes of others. Of all hardship Aema had faced in her time, she thought this to be the most ruthless to endure. Hiding behind a brave exterior she grieved in the solitude of her room. Only Éowyn detected the cracks in her facade.

'My brother left mere moment ago.' Éowyn declared as Aema settled on the chair next to her. 'Have you still not spoken?'

Aema looked down and shook her head.

'Aema, please do. I cannot stand seeing neither one of you like this.'

'I believe he wants nothing of it.'

'You must try.'

Aema looked at her friend for a moment while gathering the courage to ask what her heart desired to know;

'Does he speak of me?'

Éowyn seemed sad;

'No. He will not speak of the matter at all. Though his heart is aching for you. This I know for I know my brother.'

'I see.'

'Please, I ask again, go to him.'

'I cannot mend his heart Éowyn. There is no resolving this. We must simply endure until the pain lessens and then perhaps, if fortune is with us, we can live our lives and yet find happiness.'

'You are both mad! You must find a way. True love cannot be suffocated and you are both fools for believing so.'

'I cannot disregard my duties, and certainly neither can he.'

Éowyn let out a growl;

'I cannot bare how stubborn you are, both of you. I understand very well the importance of duty but do you fail to see that both kingdoms stands without heir. Is that a duty to be disregarded then?'

Aema blinked at her as Éowyn continued;

'How were you going to see to that? Are you going to marry a Romen farmer? Where else will you find a suitable husband, one that loves you nonetheless.'

'But I cannot marry a king of another country!'

'I ask you but to think on it my friend. Find a solution before you part.'

Aema faintly smiled in response before bidding her friend farewell for the day and leaving the houses of healing. As she walked the street towards the seventh level, her friend's words haunted her. If there was a solution, would she not have sought it before causing Éomer so much pain? Again she missed her father's advice tremendously. She felt so young and lost in that moment.

With hesitation she knocked on the door leading to Aragorn's study. His voice granted her entrance from inside and she obliged.

'Aema, what can I do for you? Please come, sit.' He gestured for the chair across the desk he was sitting behind. Aema sat.

'What brings you here?'

'I seek your advice in a most personal matter.' Aragorn set the pen aside and offered her his full attention.

'Please, tell me.' He said but Aema seemed uneasy as if she did not know how to begin. Aragorn spoke up again;

'Pardon me for bringing this up, but does this concern our friend the king of Rohan?'

Aema's cheeks blushed faintly and she did not look at him but was focusing on her fidgeting hands atop her lap.

'Aye.' She said.

'I do not know where you two went amiss but it has been clear to me that you are both suffering. Would you tell me why?'

'I say we cannot be, for we both have duties apart from each other. He does not seem to recognize my reasoning and I have hurt him. I am sorry if I am being blunt but I find myself lost, I do not know where to go from here.'

Aragorn smiled at her;

'Matters of the heart is not easily maneuvered, my dear. But prey tell why you cannot find a path that will lead to your happiness.'

'That was what I was hoping you could advice me in. I cannot find it. Neither one can abandon our land and we cannot live separated in married bliss.'

'So you have talked about the matter of marriage then I take it?'

Aema suddenly blushed furiously and stammered;

'No, I guess we have not.'

'I am sorry, I did not mean to pry so. You know his intentions I am certain. Sometimes the things left unspoken are yet clear.'

Aema looked pleadingly at him.

'My dearest Aema. It is a predicament indeed, I will grant you this much. Yet another that lays ahead is the matter of heirs.'  
'Yes, Éowyn was kind enough to stir my attention in that direction.' They both smiled.

'Do you then believe that your people would deny you a husband such as him? Yes, you certainly have obstacles to overcome but Romen stand much to gain from such a union. The bond between your two lands have withered over the centuries, this is your chance to tie them anew. What if, I say to you, the next generations of rulers in those two lands would be blood kin. What benefits would that bring? Lands are ruled in absence, it is certainly not unheard of. What of all Kings that ride out to battle. Why could your people not suffice with an appointed ruler in your stead for a time?'

'But.. I would feel like I left them, abandoned them for my own hearts desire. This is not who I am. It is not who I was taught to be.'

'I know as I am sure they know. I also believe your inherited duty states you shall act in benefit for you land and people. If you can argue that by marrying the king of the mark, you indeed are, who would stand against you?'

'I have not considered that, for the thought of leaving seemed impossible.'

'I do not blame you. All thought the future highly uncertain and love can be a perplexing thing, but you must not give up on it. Your happiness has brought me much joy. To see you smile again has lightened my heart. Do not deny thyself this Aema. You have sacrificed much for your people, they will see what I see, for they love you also.'

They rose and Aragorn walked up to her;

'Thank you Aragorn, I value your friendship greatly.'

He smiled then placed a kiss on her forehead.

'As do I dear. Speak to him, he will listen.'

Tears glistening in her eyes she left his study with a new found courage and hope.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29  
_The mending _

That eve another feast was to be held in the citadel. Aema had lost count of them. Many emissaries were coming into the city to pay their respects to the yet uncrowned king and he welcomed them with dining and entertainment. Many more were expected for the crowning ceremony but those that could not wait until then were still enough to keep all busy. As far as she knew, this night was a feast of gratitude for Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth who had proven himself to be a loyal and victorious ally to the men during the battle of Pelennor Fields. Aema did not know the Prince, she had only exchanged the expected pleasantries but she too held a great gratitude for the man and his kin. When it came to Éomer, she had attempted sending for him, but every time he had declined. But this night she had a plan to corner that bullheaded man. Since he had not shown her the courtesy of accepting her invitations, she would make him.

After the dining was over she spotted him across the room, conversing with a group of southern Gondorian nobles, it was likely people from the court of Dol Amroth, Aema thought. With a deep breath as preparation she made her way over;

'Pardon my intrusion,' Éomer glared at her when she spoke. 'I was wondering if the king would be so kind as to lend me a moment of his time, there are certain matters we need to discuss.' She smiled at the others and they smiled back before expectantly turning to Éomer.

'What say you Éomer King, will you please walk with me?'

Éomer's eyed her with irritation, a quick glance for only her to see, before offering his arm and in a most polite manner answering:

'Of course, Your Highness, with pleasure.' The last he added somewhat reluctantly. She smiled pleasantly and took his arm but her emotions were raging. She knew very well he would not deny her in front of strangers and she also knew he understood why she had done it. She was not perfectly clear as to what to say to him, but she knew they needed to at least speak to one another before anything could be resolved. She felt as if she had nothing to loose.

As they walked outside, Aema ushered them to a the garden beside the Citadel. It was the same garden where she had spoken to Gandalf during her first day in the city. Éomer did not speak a word as they walked, not until they paused and sat down on a stone bench in the garden;

'So, you got me here. What pressing matter is it we need to discuss?' He refused to look at her and she grew nervous.

'Éomer I just wanted to speak to you.' She said. He did not grant her an answer.

'Éomer, I know I have hurt you and believe me when I tell you that it pains me beyond words.' Still no reaction from him.

'Éomer please speak to me.' He now turned his glaring eyes to her;

'What do you wish of me Aema?' he let out a hollow chuckle while his hand rubbed his face,

'I believe everything we had to say has been said. Or have you come solely to add insult to my injury?'

Tears welled up in her eyes and she fought hard not to blink because she was scared it would cause them to fall and thus him to see them.

'Éomer..' she said before he interrupted.

'In Rohan, we pride ourselves with never speaking untruth, I thought the same of Romen but I seemed to have been mistaken.'

'Éomer, I have never spoken untruth!' He rose and looked down at her. He held her eyes challengingly and it dawned on Aema to what he was referring. He had asked if she loved him, and an answer left unspoken would perhaps constitute a lie in his eyes.

'Éomer, I love you.' He held her eyes for only a moment longer before he turned on his heels and walked away. _'Éomer please don't walk away from me!" s_he cried out but soon the shadows embraced him and she could hear his steps fading beyond the garden. Aema did not wipe her tears as they fell. She sat in silence in the shadowed garden and felt her heart beating though she could have sworn it simply stopped the moment he walked away. His eyes had been so cold when he looked at her. Were there no love left in him? She sobbed at the painful thought. What she would have given to be able to undo what she had done. Had she only answered him. '_Why did I not speak. Why did I leave him when he so desperately needed me? How could I?'_ But Aema knew there was no changing what had been. Still she could not believe he no longer loved her. She knew in her heart he did. She only had to convince him to forgive her errors.

Aema never returned to the great hall of the citadel. After their conversation she had retired to her rooms. Biding her time there while waiting for the festivities to be over she was determined not to give up so easily. As the hour grew late she saw through her window the dwindling number of carriages leaving the seventh level and thus knew the host and his guests had retired as well.

She silently left her room and walked down the hall to reach the stair to the upper level where Éomer's accommodations were. The halls of the citadel where dimly lit by wall candelabras and the motifs of the tapestries that scarcely hung on the walls were hard to make out. Not that Aema tried, she had other things on her mind while climbing the stairs. Once again she grew nervous, more so than before for his reaction had not been what she had anticipated. Or perhaps she was not too surprised, she had rather hoped for another though. She heard the clanking sound of a guard moving at the end of the hallway. For eminent guest such as the citadel now held, guards were placed on each floor. Luckily they stood only by each entrance and were not actually within the hallways or the stairways between them. Aema had no doubts they were guarding the bottom entrance of the stairs as well though. For now she was glad she did not have to pass any watching eyes at all, for people would surely talk if it was known that the queen skulked around the King of the Marks chambers at night.

Standing outside his door she noticed her hand was trembling. She took a deep breath before knocking carefully. She received no answer. She tried again but with the same result. As he had walked in to her room, she decided to walk into his. She opened the door and quickly stepped inside before turning around and carefully closing it behind her. The room was dark save the glowing fire on the hearth. Éomer lay sound asleep in grand, dark wooden bed in the middle of the floor. His snoring told of one or two ale too many and it made Aema smile a quivering smile.

'Éomer?' she spoke softly. When he showed no reaction she hesitated. She was not welcome here, he had made that rather clear. Yet she could not turn back now. She crossed the floor and as she stood looking down on his bare chest heaving from deep breathes she reached out to stroke his hair while softly whispering his name once more. In an instant the room swirled before her eyes and she found herself atop his bed, her armed twisted, her wrist caught in an iron grip and her throat squeezed by a calloused hand. Her involuntary shriek only came out as a croak, part from surprise and part from her throat being painfully clenched. She stared into Éomer's flaring eyes, then just as suddenly she was free again;

'Aema.. I am sorry. I am sorry. I must have hurt you.' He scanned her for marks, his eyes wide with worry.

'No Éomer, I am fine.' He spent a few more moments reassuring himself she was fine and then his temper suddenly changed.

'You should know better than ambushing a sleeping soldier! I could have taken your life, do you not see that.'

'I do now.' Was all she could say.

'What are you doing sneaking about in here at this time a night, what business do you have

here?' His anger was evident and as he stared at her, laughter bubbled up inside of her and she

had to fight to keep it at bay. The image of a flustered Éomer, bare chested with his hair in a

tangle made it hard not to. She calmed herself before speaking;

'I needed to see you. Please Éomer, let us talk.'

'Foolish woman!' he grumbled as he snatched the thin tunic that laid tossed on the floor and pulled it over his head, then ran his fingers through his hair. He walked up to the hearth to poke life into the fire and with a burning stick he lit an oil lamp placed on a dresser. He looked at her as if he was evaluating her while she patiently waited without speaking. He walked over to a table placed under one of the windows and poured two tankards of wine for them before settling on one of the two chairs placed on either side of it. He gestured her to do the same. As she sat down he reached over and handed her the wine. At length he spoke;

'So, to avoid more unpleasantries perhaps we shall speak then.' He took a sip of wine awaiting her response. She found herself at a loss of words and he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

'I...' she stammered. 'I... Éomer.. I love you.'

He did not move a muscle, his face held no expression he simply looked at her, she could not meet his gaze.

'Aema, why have you come?'

She was fidgeting her skirts. Not knowing where to begin. Not knowing if what she was about to say was something he even wanted to hear.

'I spoke to Aragorn.' she began but couldn't muster the courage to continue.

'You spoke to him about what?' Éomer said.

'I... I spoke to him about.. About us. About our duties that stands between us and he had me see that there might be a way.'

'So you spoke to him of our private matters?' Éomer's voice was cool.

'I am sorry but you would not and I was at a loss. He is my friend, Éomer, as he is yours. Our matters shall remain private.'

'So what did you learn then?'

'I… I don't know how to tell you.' Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes faltered but Éomer just waited for her to continue; 'He made me see the benefits of our… union. That not only you and I, but our people stand much to gain from it. He presented a way to overcome the still present obstacles and yet have each other…' she paused and again broke his gaze. 'would you wish it.' The last words were not a question, rather a declaration of her fear.

Éomer remained silent as did she. It was not an awkward silence for they were both too lost in thought to pay any heed to it. It was he who spoke first;

'I do not understand. Pray tell how?'

Aema explained to him what she had previously discussed with Aragorn. She recited her friend when speaking of ruling in absence and added that she of course would want to spend time in her own land, whenever possible. She had yet to dare speak of heirs though. Éomer listened intently to her words;

'I ask though, seeing as you are the ruling queen, would not your land by law fall under Rohan with such a union?' he sipped his wine.

'I must admit I do not know the laws of your land that would constitute it. I do know that in Romen, there is no law that in any way stand against this.'

'Mm,' he said thoughtfully and she eyed him, trying to untangle what was going through his mind.

'It seems it is much I do not know of your country, Your Highness.' He said and she caught a twinkle in his eyes.

'Was there something particular to which you are referring?' she said.

'I did not know that Romen tradition states that it is the woman who puts forward the marriage proposal.' Aema was confused for only a moment before she gasped aloud and blushed furiously.

Éomer laughed, for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, he laughed;

'Tell me, Your Highness, is it a habit of yours to simply sneak into a mans accommodations in the middle of the night and expect him to marry you?'

Aema hid her blushing face in her hands. Unable to say anything out of embarrassment when she realized his words were undeniable. A mortified moan escaped her and was muffled by her hands. She had spoken to him as if a marriage between them had already been a stated fact. Éomer got up and walked over to her. He gently took her hands and removed them from her face. She looked up at him, still shamed but he had stopped laughing. In his smile she found no mockery, only love. He pulled her up from the chair and as she stood in front of him, her hands still in his, he spoke softly;

'We have already broken tradition, have we not?' he smiled and she mirrored his smile when thinking of their night in Dunharrow. 'Though this is a tradition I would like to honor, therefore I ask you, Aema, daughter of Héald King, Queen of Romen, the joy of my life, will you do me the profound honor of sharing your life with me and giving me your hand in marriage?' Aema's smile widened and swiftly reached her eyes. She looked deep into his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking:

'I Aema, daughter of King Héald, twelfth ruler and eight Queen of Romen, am honored to accept your proposal, Éomer, son of Éomund, King of the Riddermark. My love, my heart and my whole reason for being.'

He raised her hands and placed a soft, lingering kiss on them all the while holding her gaze. His eyes came alive in the flickering light of the fire and she felt as if the world around them faded away, even the memory of it seemed to succumb when he finally kissed her.

Him suddenly sweeping her up in his arms caused Aema to squeal and burst out in her clear laughter;

'Éomer, what are you doing?'

He carried her over to his bed and laid her down on top of it. Before she knew it his body covered hers and there were no escaping his hungry kisses;

'I think we have honored enough traditions for one night my love.'

'Éomer…' Aema giggled. He rose on his arms and looked her straight in the eyes;

'You are _mine_, never again shall doubt take hold of me.' His voice was somewhat demanding and she recalled how she only moments ago had been uncertain if she would ever find herself in his arms again. 'Min'litha, my love!' he chuckled. 'You will indeed be the end of me.' He showered her in warm kisses. The emotions ran through her as a fierce flood of the rivers in springtime. In his arms she felt sheltered from winter. Never again did she want to sense his cold. The spring of her heart had finally arrived. This man brought life back to her and right now he wanted to show just how much he loved her and against him, Aema was defenseless. Her better judgment surrendered to his touch and in the darkest hour of nightfall, she lost herself in the whirling flow of desire.

**THE END**

_That's it people. That's as far as I got in my first ever attempt at writing this kind of stuff._

_Thank you for reading, and for not judging too hard, I hope you have enjoyed it._

_If you'd like to know what happens to these two,  
__please read the sequel "Summer's Breeze - Autumn's Storm" and the third part of their story called "By Winter All Shall Wither"_

_Please share with me if you have any thoughts on it, it is quite impossible to be objective so anything that can help me improve or words of encouragement too of course, are a very welcome addition. I'm kind of playing with the thought of a sequel, let me know if you have any good ideas on how this story could progress. Again, really appreciate you all taking the time. Thank you!_

_/MRSCVDL_


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